


I Need You So Much Closer

by lemyh



Series: I Need You So Much Closer [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 72,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemyh/pseuds/lemyh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Afterwards he'd attribute it to anything else he could. Adrenaline, worry, head trauma, even maybe just withdrawal from Adderol. It was just a flash of pain, from just his temples to the back of his head. It traveled faster than Stiles could comprehend; he just felt the dull after ache as if he'd been hit. But he hadn't. He was pretty sure he hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the Teen Wolf fandom. Hopefully I do it some justice. 
> 
> I got the idea for this story from the fic device where two people feel physical pain or ailments when they are apart from another person. I don't know if there is a title for that or not. I put my own twist on it and this is what I came up with.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

 A flash of pain. It was quick, quicker than the killing stroke that took Peter Hale's life. Honestly it felt more like a blink, barely there long enough to process, but there all the same.

Not that Stiles Stilinski would ever say because let's be honest, there are some things you never say, and that he felt a flash of pain when Peter died was one of those things. 

Which was not to say that Stiles thought the events were related, simply that the coincidence of his head briefly feeling like it was caving in on itself right as the alpha was killed was pretty... coincidental.

Afterwards he'd attribute it to anything else he could. Adrenaline, worry, head trauma, even maybe just withdrawal from Adderol. It was just a flash of pain, from just his temples to the back of his head. It traveled faster than Stiles could comprehend; he just felt the dull after ache as if he'd been hit. But he hadn't. He was pretty sure he hadn't.

Of course he was distracted directly afterwards by the aftermath. Jackson Whittemore looked like it had hit him that he had helped kill a guy. A monster, really, but in the shape of a guy. Allison Argent was standing with her father who looked none to pleased by the events that had come to pass. Then there was Scott McCall who looked, to be honest, like he'd just eaten something that didn't agree with him. He would be pissed later that his one chance of a cure was taken away, although only pissed enough to bitch at Stiles because surprisingly he wasn't a complete moron, but for now he stared at the burnt, lifeless body like it was the most horrifying thing he'd ever seen.

Which, yeah, probably was?

The last person that stiles focused on was the man on the hour. Derek Hale's eyes were red, proclaiming what he said to be true. "I'm the alpha now." It was sudden and a little more climatic than Stiles appreciated, and shit this meant that he and Scott weren't done dealing with the sourwolf like he'd hoped. Scott wasn't cured and Stiles knew (or could guess) enough about werewolf hierarchy to assume that that meant Derek was now Scott's alpha and obviously the other teen wasn't particularly good at taking orders.

Really, it would have been in Derek's best interest to let Scott have the cure just so he wouldn't have to deal with him. Hopefully now that he was stuck with him, his way of dealing wouldn't be to just off him.

And where did that leave Stiles in the order of things? He turned down the bite from Peter. And yeah, Peter had been right. He had lied about not wanting the bite. He had enough self esteem issues before his best friend became all awesome and wolfy and superpowery. Now he was depressingly human while Scott did everything in his power to fuck up.

On a deeper level though, Stiles knew that he could be so much better at the whole werewolf thing than his best friend. Scott wasn't a bad person; he was just a shitty werewolf. Stiles, however, would be an awesome werewolf. He'd only use his powers for good. Okay, maybe good for him, but definitely for good. He researched, he studied, he put his library card to the weirdest use in years to figure their problem out. He would totally rock the werewolf thing.

And maybe, had he been bit and not Scott, he would have been able to save Lydia Martin, who was now laid up in the hospital after being cut to ribbons by Peter.

So yeah, maybe Stiles had been lying when he said he "I don't want," but he hadn't been lying when he finished the sentence by saying he didn't want to be like Peter Hale. He didn't want to hurt people; he didn't want to play games with other people's lives. He didn't want to hurt his father. Shit. His father who was probably waiting for him at the hospital. Where him and Jackson had ditched to be of some use. At least he'd stood up to the hunters first.

 The hunters who were currently walking up to Derek, their weapons not drawn but definitely in reach. Allison looked like she was holding most of her father's weight, Christ Argent's hand on his gun but not pointing it at Derek, for his credit. They didn't harm werewolves that didn't attack people. Peter attacked people. Derek killed Peter. Hopefully that made null and void out any hunting that was supposed to happen. Stiles could see Allison and Scott making some seriously disgusting eye contact. It wasn't even eyesex, it was eyecuddling. At least there was that for Scott.

They approached Derek slowly, as one approached a potentially hostile werewolf who has already killed once that evening. Mr. Argent started talking quietly, the words not making it to Stiles no matter how much he strained to hear it. Another time the werewolf senses would come in handy. Jackson was looking particularly green, so Stiles, in a fit of humanity he would deny in the morning, ushered him into the Porsche's passenger seat.

"Dude, do not throw up. I will not be responsible for my actions if you do." Blood, guts and gore? Sure. Vomit? No. Especially not after watching Derek spew black tar looking stuff at the vet's.

About which Stiles kind of wondered what Scott told the vet.

Turning around in time to catch the Argent family stalking off into the woods, Stiles wanted to call out to Scott who was staring at their backs like that alone would be enough to cause them to turn around, pat their collective leg and invite the poor stranded puppy home.

Which was totally an apt analogy for Scott and Stiles was totally proud of himself for that one.

His moment of brief triumph was cut short, hence it being a brief triumph, as Derek straightened up and let his red glowing eyes meet Stiles’ non-glowing and only vaguely terrified ones.

"Take Jackson and leave." No mention of Scott, who was staring at Derek as if he had lost his mind (oh the things Stiles could say to that), but he didn't put up a fight.

That was either interesting or terrifying. And as much as he wanted to give Derek a talk about using his powers for good and not evil, potentially with Yoda speech and everything, there was one thing that he just couldn't not say.

"What, no thank you? We totally saved the day man!" Derek's mildly terrifying gaze was intensified as he started to growl.

"Whoa, okay, chill! Deep cleansing breaths, man, we'll leave. Uh, Scott, buddy, just uh, let me know if you get home. When. When you get home. I'll be awake. So. Yeah." Derek was still growling as Stiles jumped back into the driver's side of Jackson's car, telling the other teen to buckle up before peeling down the dirt road to general safety.

It wasn't until he arrived home, trying to find a way to explain his crumpled car keys to his dad, that Stiles remembered the blinding flash of pain. And as much as he wanted to write it off as nothing, Stiles was pretty positive that it was something. He just hoped it was something natural and not something... supernatural. Although they were 0-1 on things being natural around here. Just his luck, Scott was a werewolf and Stiles probably got magical headaches.

\---------

In the end, Stiles decided to not tell his dad about his crumpled car keys and just use his second set. If he could find them. And he'd have to find a way to steal his dad's house key to get a copy made, but that shouldn't be too hard. He'd done that enough times. As for why he and Jackson had left the hospital, he briefly wondered if he could play it dumb. His dad would notice, but whether or not he'd call him on it was another thing entirely. Usually he wasn't above calling Stiles on his day to day bullshit, but this was different. Lydia was in the hospital, not awake even though the doctors were no longer sedating her, and not even the sheriff could imagine a place or time when Stiles wouldn't admit his knowledge of something that horrible happening. 

Of course until she woke up, at which point hopefully she’d have a problem remembering exactly what happened the night of the dance until Scott or Stiles or Allison or Jackson could tell her not to tell what really happened. Each of them had something at stake, something to lose if she told the authorities her story.

That is, if the authorities believed her if she did tell them.

Stiles spent the next few days walking on some serious eggshells around his father, entertaining the idea that his dad might just guess that something was wrong and he’s gotten better at lying to him but when it comes to something like this? Well, Stiles wasn’t completely sure that he wouldn’t just break and tell his dad everything. 

Which would be bad because of the whole ‘must be a secret, don’t tell anyone’ thing they had going on. The air of mystery would be totally ruined, and Stiles was relying on that to help him pick up chicks.

Not that he was actively looking to pick up chicks. The girl he’d been in love with for probably way too long to be healthy or even real was in the hospital. And while he entertained the notion that maybe if other people knew what a catch he was, because he was definitely a catch, he’d be able to have more of the female gender to pick from, he wasn’t sure now was a good time.

What with the werewolves and hunters and lacrosse.

When he ran into Scott at school, everyone was whispering under their breaths about the dance because it was the big topic these days and probably wouldn’t dwindle down until either Lydia came back or something even bigger happened. And how much did it suck that Stiles could definitely see the latter happening first? 

He asked Scott what had happened after he’d taken Jackson away from the Hale house, since he hadn’t talked to him all weekend despite trying a few times. Scott had avoided the question, mentioning a curious lack of Jackson in school that day and then asking Stiles if he’d heard the rumor about him and Danny because of the impromptu dance, but it was short lived as Allison came into view.

At that point, Scott lost the two brain cells he’d had left and turned into a sickeningly sweet pile of useless werewolf mush that Stiles didn’t know whether to glare or roll his eyes at. He was happy for Scott, obviously, but it got old quick.

Stiles was forced to find another way to get the information he needed in a more underhanded manner. Simply by waiting for Scott to get in after practice and dragging him to a secluded corner which, yeah, wasn’t going to help the gay rumors. 

“What’d he say? Come on, it’s not like it can be some werewolf only thing? Even if it was, I already know about most of it. Tell me.” Scott seemed to think about it, glancing around the room as if looking for something or someone, before finally turning his full attention to Stiles.

“He wants to keep working with me.” Stiles felt the headache that he’d had all morning since playing the run around game with Scott bloom a little further at that less than comprehensive reply.

“He asked to keep working?” Scott ran a hand over the back of his neck, shrugging a little as he did so.

“Less asking, more telling. He’s my alpha now. It feels so weird man, I can’t even explain it. It’s not so much that I have to do what he says as I feel like I want to? Does that make sense? It didn’t feel like this with Peter though, so I don’t know what it is. I don’t get it.”  Stiles nodded because while it might not make a lot of sense, he kind of understood.

“Can you ask him about it?” Scott scoffed, moving to his locker once most of the team had disappeared either into the showers or out of the locker room in general. The few that were still there were far enough away that they wouldn’t overhear.

“I guess I could, but he’s not the most forthcoming with information. Him wanting to train me now doesn’t have anything to do with wanting to help me. He is saving his own ass. Because he’s my alpha, he is responsible for me and whatever I do reflects back on him.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at that.

“Well you might want to actually look into studying for classes then because your grades are kind of shit right now.”

Scott rolled his eyes, opening his locker with a little more force than probably necessary, before taking off parts of his uniform and padding.

“Not like that, jerk. If I go off the deep end and like, attack some innocent bystander? The hunters will be forced to act then.”

Leaning against the lockers to unlace his cleats, Stiles couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Isn’t that kind of weird then? I mean, your girlfriend’s father is slightly more scary than most. And that’s without the gun in his hands.” Scott slammed his locker door shut with definitely more force than necessary.

“Maybe so, but he’s the one that’s telling me all this stuff. Derek just told me to keep coming to the house to work on things and to keep my mouth shut and my head down. Allison’s dad is trying to help me while Derek is only helping so that he doesn’t get in trouble. And, by the way, Allison’s dad is okay with us dating now. Especially because if I even think about stepping out of line… well, let’s just say, I’ve seen their weapons collection.”

He stormed off towards the showers. Usually Stiles would have followed him, either to talk him into being less of a drama queen or to goad him into a better mood, because if he kept letting his rage get the better of him, he’d shift. And that’d be bad. But Stiles knew when to back off, even if he usually ignored it. 

Scott wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize his relationship with Allison. It was weird because Stiles had never thought there’d be a time when he and Scott weren’t able to tell each other everything, but it seemed like they had reached that point. Scott now had his girlfriend to tell everything to, his girlfriend to help him out with the werewolf things, his girlfriend’s dad to help him. Well, Stiles knew when he wasn’t needed.

He didn’t have to like it though.

\----------

Stiles has never been a fan of hospitals. Or maybe they have never been a fan of him. He’s somewhat clumsy and has visited a few times for that. He sometimes stopped by to see Scott’s mom, usually if they needed something. There was when his own mom was sick and they’d only have a little time with her each day.

Plus there was most recently when Stiles seemed to be at the hospital more often than not, visiting or snooping or trying to figure out what the hell was going on in Beacon Hills.

This time though, he was strictly visiting. Lydia looked just as lovely as always, her wounds still healing the old fashioned way, but she still wasn’t awake. He’d plied Scott’s mom for information, drawing the line at begging of course, to find out that while she was still technically in a coma, her brain activity and other vitals seemed normal. It’d been the best news Stiles had heard in a while.

He knew. Deep down he knew that he didn’t have a chance with Lydia. Deep down he was okay with that. He could be okay with friends. His love was more just an infatuation that he’d used as a shield. If what he wanted was unattainable, he wouldn’t get hurt by not attaining it. 

It didn’t make it any easier to see her on the hospital bed, head tilted to the side just a little, arms sprawled at her sides, hair resting limp against the white pillow. Her skin had a little more color in it, which was good. Or at least Stiles assumed it was good.

He really needed to brush up on his basic first aid. Being friends with a werewolf was going to require it.

“I’m sorry this is the first time I’ve come to visit. I wanted to come out earlier but my dad… Well that’s not too terribly important, is it? What is important is that I’m here now. How’re you feeling?”

She didn’t answer. He hadn’t expected an answer. He just didn’t know how else to go about this.

“Listen, I did a little reading about coma patients. Between what I read and watching probably way too many made for TV movies, I’ve noticed a common factor. That you can actually hear what is going on. That you can hear what I’m saying. Is that true?”

Still no answer. Stiles shifted on the really uncomfortable hospital chair, glancing over his shoulder at the mostly shut door. He remembered pushing that door close a few days ago while on the floor, trying to be quiet and ignoring the exasperated looks Scott had been shooting him. Wasn’t his fault the hinges were old.

“I just want you to know that we’re all worried about you. You can’t see but there are flowers and cards and balloons and stuffed animals on basically every surface of this room. You really need to wake up and see them Lydia.”

Stiles wanted nothing more than for the girl to wake up and roll her eyes, tell him he was being stupid or pathetic, tell him off for breathing or existing too near to her. He wanted to know she was going to be okay.

“When you wake up, can you do me a huge favor? Tell them you don’t remember anything. You could have every nurse, doctor, and specialist wrapped around your finger in seconds and I need you to do that. I need you to either tell them you don’t remember or actually not remember at all because that’s very important.”

The chances of her telling someone what actually happened and being believed were slim, but say she did? Say she did and then later, if something happened and whoever she told remembered the words of the young girl in the hospital. Shit would hit the fan.

Stiles was doing damage control for damage that didn’t exist yet. 

“You know, this is like most of our conversations, isn’t it? I talk, you pretend I don’t exist.”

Her face when he had told her to dance with him, her correction on the award name, the fact that she actually enjoyed herself for a few minutes before wanting to find Jackson… those things would stay with Stiles. 

“I’ve gotten pretty good at talking to myself these days.”

It’d never felt so true. Whenever he talked to Scott since Peter Hale had bitten him, Scott had almost always ignored it. Between Allison and just simply being a hardheaded teenager, it had been a tough battle anyways. He wasn’t going to give up though. Scott might not want his help right now, but he needed it. And Stiles was not one to let a friend suffer if he could do anything about it.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles didn’t yell, but he did jump in his seat and let out a very unmanly noise as he whipped around to look at the door. He wasn’t entirely sure when it opened, but it had. 

Jackson stood in the doorway, looking pale and a little sickly. Stiles shook his head, glancing at Lydia’s still form before standing up. He reached a hand out, letting it hover over her hand for a moment before stepping away and going to the door.

“I just wanted to check on her.” Jackson nodded, looking down at his hands. In one was clutched a small stuffed dog with a purple bow around its neck. 

Stiles tried not to pay attention to the fact that Jackson’s hand was shaking. The older teen stepped around him, moving to take the seat Stiles had vacated. Stiles hesitated at the door before sighing loudly. 

“Listen man, if you need to talk about anything--”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Stiles head his hands up at Jackson’s quick rejoinder.

“Fine. Nothing to talk about. I’ll see you at school.”

He turned to the door once more but was stopped by a low grunt of thanks, one that probably was meant for Stiles and not for the sleeping Lydia. 

\----------

After a quick stop at the pawn shop to get his dad’s house key copied, Stiles sits behind the wheel of his jeep at a red light, tapping out the beat to a song that’s not playing on the radio. His dad had said he’d be working late, trying to figure out what happened to Peter Hale. News had spread fast that it’d been Peter and not Derek that’d been killing people. Not to mention all the stuff about Kate Argent going around now.

There was an odd moment between one stanza of the song in his head and the next that Stiles thought he had a headache. Which was weird because usually one knows these things, but he wasn’t sure. There was definitely a pressure in his temples, but it wasn’t sharp enough to be an ache.

Of course once he recognized the pressure, the ache came with it. Just like the night of the fight, the pain was there and gone in the blink of an eye, only this time it left a light throb in its wake.

A persistent noise made it through the slight haze of Stiles’ mind, registering as a horn. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal, glancing up to make sure he had a green light after a brief panic where he wasn’t sure if the car behind him was honking or not. Once sure that the light was green, and probably had been for a bit to cause whatever angry driver behind him to lay on his horn like that, Stiles glanced in his rearview mirror to see if he recognized the car or driver.

Says a lot about Beacon Hills that Stiles was sure he’d be able to recognize the car or driver in a normal case, but he didn’t have to guess. The car and driver were both very familiar and both very surprising to see this far in town.

Sticking his hand out, Stiles did a quick wave to Derek. He was pretty sure that Derek would remember what his car looked like, but he wasn’t entirely certain. Sure enough, the car sped up and moved to drive beside him, going the wrong way in the wrong lane.

Stiles did a quick flailing, which should have translated to ‘are you an idiot, you’re going to wreck’ but seemed to translate to ‘run me off the road please’ because Derek swerved his own car, light enough not to actually hit the jeep but enough that Stiles had to swerve to the side of the road to keep from being side swiped.

Damn. He knew he annoyed Derek, but enough for the guy to try to kill him? That was uncalled for and just plain rude.

Derek pulled over in front of him but made no move to leave his car. Stiles waited for a minute, watching the time click over on his watch, before unbuckling and getting out of his own car. He walked over to where Derek was parked, breathing deeply a few times as he did so. 

The driver side window was rolled down, enough that it wasn’t awkward to try to conversation. Stiles refrained from leaning into the window, but only just barely.

“So, that was really bad driving. I mean, I’ve only been driving for a year and I know that that was some really bad driving. Where did you get your license from?” 

If you asked him, he would swear that he saw the beginning of a smile on Derek’s lips before his face went blank and he shook his head.

“The light was green and you didn’t go.” Stiles waited for Derek to say more but when he didn’t, he couldn’t help the noise he made.

“Really? You just tried to run me off the road because I didn’t speed off down the road when the light was green? I was distracted for a second.”

Derek’s face tilted to the window, eyebrows furrowing as his mouth turned down in a frown.

“You missed the green light completely Stiles. I didn’t honk until the second time it turned green.” Stiles felt something cold in his stomach, but he ignored it. 

“You’re joking, right?”

Derek shook his head, leaning towards the window a little as he did so.

“You didn’t notice?” Stiles started to shake his head but thought better of it.

“Of course I did. I was listening to a song. Really good song. I have to go though. My dad wants me home. So I’m going home. Drive safely.”

He sped back to his jeep, getting in and driving off probably a little too fast. As the son of the sheriff, he knew the rules of the road, but he couldn’t think beyond what Derek had told him.

He’d missed a complete green light, a yellow, another red, and almost missed another green light? It’d felt like seconds. He would almost swear that it’d only been a few seconds at most. He’d been humming the song and then the flash of pain and then the horn. 

If he’d lost time during the pain this time, had he done it after Derek killed Peter too? Had anyone noticed?

He didn’t want to worry but his mom had passed from a brain tumor and he remembered her talking about the headaches before she’d been hospitalized the final time. He didn’t want to worry his dad either but he wasn’t sure if this was something he could keep to himself.

\-------------

“Has something ever happened to you that you weren’t really sure what it was but you knew it was bad?” 

Scott blinked incomprehensively at Stiles for a few minutes as his brain tried to catch up to the words given to him in rapid succession. Stiles waited for there the light bulb to go off, nearly falling asleep into his math text book while he waited.

“I guess that depends on if you think being bitten by a werewolf is a bad thing I guess.” It was said rather sarcastically, but Stiles actually had to think about it.

“Not really sure which is worse, but hear me out, okay?”

He explained what had happened the night Derek had killed Peter, the flash of a headache that barely registered at first. Scott seemed surprised to hear, since as far as he knew nothing had changed during the actual fight. Not that Stiles would be surprised if he’d grown a second head and Scott hadn’t noticed.

He then followed that by explaining what happened on his way home from the hospital the day before, how Derek had said he’d been stopped at the light, how he didn’t remember it being that long. It happened so fast, which was probably cliché, but no less true.

“Wait, Derek was worried about you?”

Stiles had been clicking the top of his pen as he spoke but at that, he paused his ministrations and stared at the teen he called his best friend.

“That’s what you got out of all that? I’m being serious, potentially deathly serious, and all you heard was that Derek was worried about me?” Scott had the decency to look sheepish before responding to the accusation.

“I know that it is important and I will help in any way I can, but come on. You can’t say that Derek showing human emotion isn’t a big deal.”

Conceding to that point, Stiles shoved his text book away from him and bent forward a bit more so that the people around them wouldn’t overhear the topic of conversation.

“It was weird. Even more weird than his usual weird. There weren’t even any threats of bodily harm, which would have been surprising enough. I don’t know and I’m trying not to question it too much. You know, being a little distracted by the fact that I’m apparently having mini-blackouts or something.”

Scott pushed his own homework away from him and it was a testament to how distracted Stiles was that he only then realized that Scott had his phone out and was… was he texting?

“You’re not telling this to Allison, are you?” Scott shook his head, frowning down at his phone.

“No, Derek was texting me. He told me to check in on you.” 

Which was odd because Stiles was fairly sure that Derek had his number and it would have been a lot easier to just text Stiles instead of going about it in such a roundabout manner. Except that Stiles probably would have lied even if he hadn’t been fine, which he totally was. Totally fine. Not worried about a brain tumor and the fact that Derek Hale was surprisingly nice to Stiles for a second there.

Scott glanced up, not so subtly scenting the air. Stiles was almost legitimately afraid for what he could have smelt, Scott had told him how he was learning to get a read on emotions from scents, so instead of addressing that little issue, he addressed another, more serious one.

“You need to calm down your wolfy antics in public man. I mean, it’s a little off putting if you start sniffing the air like that. And sometimes when a guy is standing too close to Allison, it looks like you want to piss on her or something.” Once again Scott looked sheepish, a look that Stiles was starting to associate with the puppy version of his werewolf best friend.

“Sorry. Derek warned me that my wolf characteristics would start showing as I started getting used to it. He wants me to come to his house tonight, says there is something we need to discuss.”

Stiles nodded, pulling his book back to him like that alone would protect him from that nagging feeling of being left behind. He’d felt it the entire time they had been helping Derek hunt down Peter in the first place, even before that when he was trying to help Scott so that he didn’t have to rely on Derek.

It was mildly astonishing how many of his decisions somehow have to deal with Derek these days.

He was glad that Scott had somewhere to go with the whole lycanthropy thing. Having Derek around was, and he’d rather be shot than admit it to anyone but himself, actually a good thing. And now Derek was Scott’s alpha and Scott had to listen to him and they were pack, and Stiles kind of felt like not only was he second line on lacrosse, but in his best friend’s life too.

Melodramatic, sure, but true none the less.

Before he could work himself into a bigger pity party, with balloons that displayed just how much pity he had for himself, Scott started to talk while gathering his things for the next bell.

“How about you come with me? You already know everything that’s going on. Whatever he tells me, I’m going to end up telling you afterwards anyways.”

Nodding once more, although this time with interest and not in dejection, Stiles started to pack up his own work to get to his next class.

“Admit it, you’re only asking me so that you’ll have a ride.” Scott snorted, but didn’t deny it, so Stiles counted that as a win.

Things may be difficult for the two of them now, with Stiles stuck on the sidelines and Scott paying more attention to what the Argents say than his own alpha, but they had each other’s backs.

\-----------

What Stiles hadn’t been expecting as they pulled in front of the dilapidated Hale house was for his headache to return with a vengeance. He blinked a few times, feeling the pain stay forefront longer than before.

It wasn’t unbearable, but it was strange. It felt like every bad headache he’d ever had, throbbing in his temples and forcing him to squint his eyes even though the sun was low and hidden behind the trees surrounding the estate.

“Stiles? Stiles, you okay man?” Stiles wanted to nod because that was Scott’s voice in his ear, sounding more concerned than Stiles had heard him in a long time. However he didn’t want to nod in case it forced the headache to intensify. Every time before, it had disappeared. He needed it to disappear again, needed the pain to go away so that he could breathe. It still wasn’t too much, he could probably go about his usual routine with it there, but something made him not want to. 

There was a momentary throb, as if it was about to get worse, and then it was gone. Stiles forced his eyes open more, turning to tell Scott that he was okay, but Scott wasn’t next to him. Instead he was met with the familiar eyes of Derek, whose eyebrows were furrowed in concern as he peered at Stiles.

“Whoa. Dude. Personal space. Look it up.” He didn’t mind Derek being in his face like he was, which was high on the list of things he didn’t want to think about, but he knew he needed to act like it bothered him. 

Slipping from his jeep and pocketing his keys, Stiles slung his backpack over his shoulder and moved towards the steps but barely made it halfway there when he was intercepted by Scott.

“You okay man?” Stiles nodded, hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder and moving past Scott. If he treated it like it was nothing, maybe Scott could treat it like nothing. Not that it was nothing, because it was definitely something, but he didn’t want to face it just yet.

And Scott knew that he was worried about the headaches and even Scott could probably put two and two together and realize that what happened was one of the headaches, but Stiles wanted nothing more than for the conversation to not take place until they were no longer in Derek’s domain.

Which is what he’d taken to calling the land that surrounded the Hale house. Derek’s domain. 

The three of them made their way into the house which looked a little like it was about to collapse on them if they moved too much. Stiles knew it wouldn’t, because it’d been through some serious shit already and hadn’t collapsed. He also knew that it was going to be worked on soon because after the cops had come out and found Kate Argent’s body, the sheriff had made a passing comment about the fact that the house looked like it should be condemned and Derek had taken that as a threat and was going about rebuilding his family home.

It was probably going to be cathartic, if it wasn’t a complete and utter disaster.

They were barely into the living room when Scott seemed to have a fit, pacing the area and sniffing around. It was down right weird, like Stiles was watching a hunting dog look for a scent. A glance to Derek showed that the alpha wasn’t concerned, so Stiles decided he probably shouldn’t be concerned either.

“What’s--” His question was cut short by the appearance of another person, which probably shouldn’t have surprised Stiles but still did.

“Jackson?” Scott seemed confused as he looked at the other teen before his eyes widened and he looked back and forth between Jackson and Derek, the former looking almost smug and the latter looking as blank as usual.

“You bit him?” 

That got Stiles’ attention, snapping his head to look at Jackson. He didn’t look different, a little less pale and sickly than he had at the hospital the day before. Stiles also couldn’t remember seeing Jackson at school the past few days.

“Is that what you wanted to discuss? That you bit Jackson? Of all people, Jackson?” Irritation sparked over both Jackson and Derek’s faces, although probably for admittedly different reasons, but it was Jackson who spoke up first.

“I told you that I was going to get it, didn’t I?” Scott stood up a bit straighter, facing the (apparently) other werewolf face on. 

Stiles felt a stab of pride because while he’d been able to stand up to Jackson when the other had been human and Scott was all superpowery, now he was doing it when the playing field had been evened again.

“Even after what happened the night of the dance? What you saw, what you did, that doesn’t mean anything to you? What about Lydia? Do you think that--?”

It happened so quickly that Stiles was pretty sure he hadn’t even blinked, but Jackson was holding Scott against the wall by his throat. They were both wolfed out, which made Stiles believe that Jackson was bit a few days ago and had gotten some sort of control on the change. Not as much as Scott, who had changed in his own defense while Jackson had shifted out of anger.

Stiles wanted to intervene, even stepped forward. Not that he thought there was actually anything he could do, because he was still depressingly human (even Jackson was special now, apparently werewolves weren’t too picky in their recruiting) and knew that even one false move would get his face rearranged in a more permanent way than the usual pummeling bullies threatened.

Jackson was going to be even more unbearable now.

One step forward was all that Stiles got before Derek used the same commanding voice he’d used to tell Jackson and Stiles to leave the night of the battle, the one that didn’t include Scott and therefore told him to stay where he was. 

“Jackson, Scott, stop.”

The two betas separated, their eyes still flashing gold while their bodies seemed to vibrate with energy. And probably frustration. And anger. Was that the same thing as frustration in this case?

“That was… creepy. Okay. So, to summarize. Jackson is a werewolf now, most likely going to be slightly more of a douche than usual. Awesome. Not too sure you thought that one through Derek, just putting my opinion out there.”

Jackson growled at Stiles, although the force of it was less than half of Derek’s weakest growl. He probably thought he was being terrifying because he was wolfed out, but he suddenly reminded Stiles of a puppy, just like Scott did sometimes.

Which was strange because Jackson, who was definitely not Stiles’ number one fan, was a super powerful being now and could probably kill Stiles without breaking a sweat, but Stiles wasn’t worried.

“Don’t recall asking your opinion. The facts are simple. Scott, Jackson, you are pack now. You’ll have to start acting like it. I’ve given Jackson a head start on his training because you’re further ahead Scott, but now we’ll need to do group work. I really hope I don’t need to explain how important it is that you don’t draw attention to yourselves now. You don’t need to be friends, but you are pack. And you both answer to me.”

While Jackson and Scott both nodded, seeming to be in some sort of trance, Stiles felt another flash of pain in his temples. When it passed, quicker than from the car, he could sense more than see Derek staring at him. He tried to play the wince off as just an after effect of whatever the hell had happened between the group, but he was sure it fell short.

He had the worst luck.

While Jackson and Scott listened to Derek drone on about werewolf plans and werewolf rules and werewolf stuff, Stiles moved into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, trying to get his breath back. The last brush of pain had almost been quicker than the first, if that was possible, but it’d left him reeling. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed that way, because when he turned around, Scott was watching him from the entrance to the kitchen.

“Jackson just left. Derek says we can go now.” Trying to paste on a smile, Stiles grabbed his bag from the floor and started towards him, but barely got to his side before Scott grabbed his wrist and forced him to stay still.

“It happened again, didn’t it? Once in the car and then once in the living room? Man, you were shaking and pale in the car, I thought you were scared to be back here after what happened. Derek came out and told me to get out of the car. He climbed in and then you climbed out.”

Stiles shrugged, not so subtly trying to get his wrist back from Scott’s tight grip.

“It wasn’t too bad, I just was worried about making it worse. I’ll just lay off the Adderol for a bit, see if that makes any difference. If it persists, I’ll talk to my dad. But really, no need to worry. I’m good now.”

Scott released Stiles wrist after a few moments and the two of them made their way out of the house, nodding to Derek who stood on the porch watching them as they walked to the jeep. When they got in, Stiles paused a moment before starting the engine.

“Don’t tell anyone about my headaches Scott. Please?” Scott nodded, buckling up as he did so.

“Of course man, what are friends for?”

\-------------

The first two text messages were innocuous for the most part. Of course Stiles was suspicious when he saw the name, because Derek texting him was suspicious, but the texts were simple.

_What are you doing?_ followed by _Anything interesting today?_ that could have meant anything, but Stiles decided to take them as meaning about his research. Which he was still doing, despite Derek telling him it wasn’t needed. 

It was kind of impossible for Stiles to just stop doing what he did best. Research and annoying people. 

The third text message was what tipped Stiles off that something had gone very, very wrong.

_How do you feel?_

Now Stiles could have taken the smart ass route and said something about being a sourwolf and human emotion, but he took it for what he was 99.9% sure it meant.

_I’m going to kill Scott._

Stiles tried to focus on anything but what that meant, tried desperately not to focus on the fact that Derek cared enough to text him to ask how he was doing in the first place. Tried to focus on his anger at Scott for telling when he said he wouldn’t. 

_Scott didn’t say anything. I overheard your conversation in my kitchen._

Okay, so Stiles could stop planning Scott’s murder because apparently he wasn’t a horrible friend. 

_Eavesdropping is rude. You really need a lesson in manners._

There was a cough from the front of the room and Stiles looked up, noticing that the other students were mostly asleep as whatever lame movie was playing was turned out by most everyone present. Even the substitute teacher looked half asleep in the seat at the front. Most of the students were texting or sleeping or doing homework for other classes. 

He glanced down as his phone lit up, not noticing how tightly he’d been holding onto the phone while waiting for Derek to text him back.

_Werewolf._

Stiles started to write back, to ask what that was supposed to mean, when it clicked. He hadn’t been eavesdropping after all, he’d just happen to overhear it because of his wolfy superpowers and damn, Stiles was just wrong about everything today.

Maybe he was wrong about Derek actually caring. Maybe someone put him up to texting Stiles. Maybe it was a cruel, cruel joke. 

If it was a joke, Stiles would bet that Jackson was behind it.

Instead of pondering on that particular point for any longer than necessary, Stiles shoved his phone into his pocket and tried to focus on the screen at the front of the room. He’d refrained from taking Adderol, hoping that that had some hand in his headaches, but he wouldn’t know for a while.

Mostly because he had taken so much before that it was basically built up in his system at this point.

_Come by the house after school._

It was worded like an order, but Stiles wasn’t one of his betas and therefore didn’t have to listen to Derek’s orders. That was one of the definite plus sides of being a human in the ragtag band of hoodlums they made up.

_Please._

And honestly, the noise that Stiles made was justified because Derek had just said please. Or typed it. But the sentiment was still there.

Ignoring the looks a few of his classmates shot him, Stiles typed back that he’d swing by the house on his way home, trying to make it sound like he was doing it because Derek had asked and not because he actually wanted to, which was another thing that Stiles wasn’t willing to pay too much attention to.

“Mr. Stilinski, is that a cell phone in your hand?” Stiles’ head shot up, fumbling to tuck his phone into his pocket while looking up into the face of the substitute.

He could bullshit his way out of anything, this wouldn’t be too different.

\-----------

Detention wasn’t exactly a new experience for Stiles. Even in elementary school he had been a constant fixture in the detention rooms. Now was no different. The substitute had confiscated his phone, taking the battery out and putting them in the drawer of the desk before writing him up.

Honestly, he was surprised teachers even bothered anymore. As it was, he was going to have to get the slip of paper signed by his dad so that he didn’t get a second write up, but the sheriff was pretty used to it by now. He didn’t even look at the pink slips of paper when he signed anymore.

Which, in retrospect, was kind of sad.

While he worked on his homework for one of his classes, ignoring the other people in the room that were serving the detention with him for whatever reasons, he could feel the headache slowly start to creep in. However for the first time since the battle at the Hale house, the headache felt normal. 

It was sad that he was actually happy for a normal headache.

There were a few minutes of slight ache before it came over him all at once. Nausea, body tremors, and a searing pain in his head to the point where he might have blacked out. The substitute had made a comment about him trying to get out of the detention until she realized that he wasn’t acting. 

“Are you sick? Do I need to call an ambulance?” Stiles shook his head because even though he didn’t know what was going on, he knew that if he left the school in an ambulance, word would get to his father and… and he just couldn’t do that to him.

“No. No, I’m fine. I think I ate something. Must have disagreed with me.” She nodded, placing her hand on his forearm, drawing his attention to the fact that his fingers were scrambling for purchase on the slick surface of the desk.

“I think you’ve been here long enough. Do you need someone to take you home? I don’t feel comfortable letting you drive.”

Stiles shook his head, and then regretted the action as it drove his vision to swim before his eyes.

“No, I can… I’m going to just wait it out in my car. If it gets too bad, I’ll call someone. Thank you.”

He gathered his things, accepting his phone when she handed it back, and fled from the room, as fast as he could without passing out in the process, hoping that the woman wouldn’t change her mind about forcing him to call someone. He knew if he could just clear his head, he’d be fine, but he couldn’t do that with her hovering over his shoulder.

He needed to suck it up and tell his dad what was going on. This wasn’t healthy, this was a disaster.

A familiar car and an even more familiar figure leaned up against said car caused him to stop his trek to his jeep. The moment he met Derek’s eyes, it was like he’d never felt ill in the first place. The thought alone made his hands start to shake.

Maybe he shouldn’t tell his dad what was going on.

He continued to his car a little slower than he had been, trying not to focus on how much better he felt than he had even before his little spell. The werewolf that he was trying very hard not to attribute his miraculous recovery to started to move forward, watching Stiles with an expression that he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen on Derek’s face. 

Except he had seen it on his face before, once. After Scott had gotten to the vet’s with the bullet and Derek had used it to heal himself, after he stopped writhing around on the floor (which Stiles might have memorized in graphic detail).

It was a look of someone who had been relieved of an extreme pain.

It took three long strides for Derek to get in front of Stiles, who had some point had stopped walking after his small revelation at the look on Derek’s face. The face and look in question was now only about a foot away from Stiles’ own face and although they’d been closer than this, it’d never felt quite so intimate.

That included the time Derek had pulled Stiles close over the table at the vets, threatening him so that Stiles would cut off Derek’s infected arm. Not one of his brightest moments, to be fair.

“It happened again.” It wasn’t a question; it was a simply stated fact.

“It was worse this time. Much worse.” Derek looked away, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that was becoming familiar to Stiles. He was concerned. For Stiles.

“I think… I don’t know what’s going on, but I think I might know something about it.”

It seemed to be a day for surprising Stiles, but he took it in stride. 

“I’m going to assume it’s something supernatural. Am I right?”

Derek didn’t reply, simply jerked his head at the passenger door of his own car.

“Dude, I drove to school this morning?” He pointed at his jeep but Derek shook his head, stepping up behind him and all but pushing him into the car. He didn’t use his hands though, just used his definitely intimidating presence to get what he wanted.

“You’re not driving right now. Get in and shut up.”

Stiles sighed, throwing his book bag into the back seat and settling down. Derek crossed over and got into the driver’s side, casting a quick glance to Stiles before starting the car.

The silence in the car only lasted for so long before Stiles had to break it.

“So you said you might know what’s going on with me?” Derek nodded, still silent as he drove towards the Stilinski household.

“Are you going to tell me or do I need to guess?”

They weren’t too far from the house now, but Derek pulled over and parked the car, stopping the engine and staring at the steering wheel for a beat before speaking.

“I think you’re somehow connected to me.” It wasn’t what Stiles was expecting, although he wasn’t really sure what he had been expecting, so he thought he was justified in letting his mouth flop open.

“Connected? Connected how exactly?”

And array of images and ideas flashed through Stiles’ mind but he tried to draw his focus away from it because he was sitting in an enclosed space with a werewolf who was trained at smelling emotions or whatever the hell it was that he was teaching Scott to do.

“The headaches you’ve been getting? The episode earlier today? It happened to me too.”

For a moment there was silence, a quick throb in Stiles’ temple that wasn’t a precursor to the episodes as Derek called them but more of an actual tension headache, as he tried to grasp what that meant.

“What do you mean, it happened to you too?” Derek finally looked up and Stiles had to bite his tongue because his eyes were red. Which was usually how he knew he’d gone a little too far, but he wasn’t sure how he’d overstepped this time. 

“The headaches? The night I became alpha, that time when I was behind you at the light, outside of my house last night, then again in the living room and then today while you were in detention. I thought it was coincidence when I heard you and Scott talking about it last night but when I got here and saw you when you got out of the building, I knew.”

It was a lot to process, even if it was just one thing. Derek and Stiles were connected and shared some sort of supernatural headaches. One thing, but one really big thing. Why, how, and what could they do to fix it? Those were the questions that Stiles wanted to ask. Instead Stiles asked something else.

“What does it mean?” Derek breathed in deeply through his mouth, as if trying not to breathe through his nose, and shut his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them again, they were their natural color and Stiles felt a little tension leave his shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

\------------

Agreeing to go to Derek’s house had honestly seemed like a good idea when they had been parked on the side of the road. Of course Stiles hadn’t realized at that point that that would mean being alone in a house with Derek. As in by himself. With no one else.

It would be the first time they’d been alone since going to the hospital that night and finding out that Peter was the alpha.

Which hadn’t ended well if memory served him right.

Plus, it would be prolonged exposure to the guy that had single-handedly sparked Stiles’ sexual identity crisis. Which wasn’t much of a crisis, actually, but more of a thing that he never needed to notice before. Being head over heels in love with Lydia apparently served more than the purpose of allowing him to never get hurt. Who knew?

Which wasn’t to say that he couldn’t see the appeal that some guys had. Jackson, apart from being the biggest douche to ever douche, was attractive. In a male model, ‘not entirely human, probably air brushed in real life’ kind of way. And Danny? He was definitely attractive despite the fact that he looked like he could walk into a bar without being carded.

He couldn’t say one way or another for Scott because that would be like discussing the sexual appeal of Stiles’ brother… if he had a brother. 

But it was different with Derek. It wasn’t just that he was attractive, although that definitely didn’t hurt. It would have been so much easier if that was the only reason he had those feelings for Derek. Underneath the threats of violence (usually towards Stiles) and open hostility (also usually towards Stiles) and sourwolf exterior (towards everything), Stiles could tell that there was more there. Not just because he wanted there to be, but because no one, wolf or human, could make it their life mission to not show emotion over anything unless there was emotion there to begin with.

Which was confusing, but none the less true.

And also because Stiles really, really wanted there to be more to the alpha than just an attractive face, a rockin’ bod, and that broody mysterious bad boy vibe.

Stiles was noting if not vaguely shallow sometimes.

Alone with Derek in the Hale house after discovering that the two of them were linked through headaches probably should have been more awkward than it was, even though it was plenty awkward. Especially when Stiles sat on one side of the couch and Derek sat on the other and all Stiles could think about at first was crawling over the cushion that separated them and crawling into Derek’s lap. Which was low on subtly and high on stupidity.

To distract himself from the urge to do something awkward and embarrassing and probably unwanted, Stiles jumped right into the problem at hand.

“So we are both getting these headaches, right? Well what are the common factors?” Derek tapped his fingers on his jean clad thigh that… Stiles really needed to stop staring at.

“The first one was as I killed Peter. The second one was in the car after I left the police station. Third was when I was waiting for everyone to get here to inform you all that the pack was expanding. And the final one was when I was waiting for you to get out of detention.”

That drew Stiles’ attention.

“By the way, how did you know I had detention today? I was supposed to head here after school and the sub took my phone so I couldn’t tell you I would be late.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and glanced at where his own phone sat on the coffee table in front of them.

“Scott texted me, told me you had detention. I thought you told him to text me.” It was a statement but Stiles could hear the underlying question.

“I didn’t. But that raises my next question. Why, if you knew I had detention, were you waiting for me outside of the school? You wouldn’t have had time to get there after the last episode so you were already there when it happened.”

This time Derek actually looked as close to sheepish as possible for the broody alpha. He wouldn’t meet Stiles’ gaze, keeping his eyes instead on the burnt remains of the wall opposite them, fingers still tapping out some unheard beat on his leg.

“I was just going to meet you at the school. I had my suspicions about the episodes before the one at the school. That just proved it.”

Stiles nodded, because he couldn’t really call bullshit without giving away that he wanted it to be bullshit. That he wanted Derek to say that he just wanted to see Stiles, couldn’t wait for him to get out of detention. He didn’t want to give that secret up, not to anyone, and definitely not to Derek himself.

Derek might be unattainable like Lydia had been, but it was still very different. He didn’t like Derek because he was safe. He liked Derek because he couldn’t help it, because he had no choice in the matter.

“So what do you think, is it just random or do these episodes have a reason? And if there is a reason, what do you think it is?”

Derek was quiet for a few minutes after that, running things over in his head while still keeping up that ridiculously distracting tapping, until he finally sighed.

“One way to know for sure if it is just random. I’ll inflict pain on myself; we can see what happens from there.”

If there was a way for Stiles to resist that notion without explaining that he didn’t want to see Derek hurt, he would have done it. Instead he found himself offering a brief nod.

He didn’t have time to look away before Derek used one hand to break three fingers of his other hand. The sound was enough to make Stiles feel light headed, but nothing else.

Looking anywhere but Derek’s broken hand, he tried to settle his heartbeat. Derek and his heightened senses would pick up on it and--

It came fast, causing Stiles to double up in pain. Nausea rivaled the pain throbbing in his head for the worse of it. He felt like he had suddenly contracted the most horrible stomach bug ever created. Chemically altered to suck more than humanly possible.

A glance at Derek showed him suffering the effects, his eyes shining red, but he wasn’t bowed over like Stiles was. Whether being a werewolf dimmed the pain or whether he just wasn’t as susceptible to it, Stiles wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he hated to see the look of pain on Derek’s face, a pain he somehow knew wasn’t all physical.

Acting on instinct (and mild fantasy), Stiles reached out to touch Derek’s arm. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture but the moment his fingers touched the material of Derek’s jacket, the pain lowered to a dull roar. On impulse, Stiles followed the line of the jacket’s sleeve. As his fingers touched the skin of Derek’s hand, the pain completely disappeared.

They were both silent as they looked at the place where Stiles’ fingertips touched Derek’s wrist. He couldn’t help but keep looking between where their hands were to Derek’s face, where his eyes had gone back to their natural color within seconds. And as with most awkward situations, it was down to Stiles to interrupt the moment with the obvious.

“That’s… interesting.”

\-----------

Even after the pain subsided, Stiles didn't remove his fingertips from Derek's hand. The real interesting part was that Derek hadn't removed his hand, with force if necessary.

The lapse out of pain reminded Stiles just what had caused the pain in the first place, drawing his gaze towards Derek's hand. The fingers were on his left hand, the hand furthest from where Stiles was, and he watched in sick fascination as they seemingly popped back into place. The slight discoloration was left behind but the bones realigned as if they had never been broken in the first place.

"That would have come in handy when I broke my wrist. Or my ankle. Or my ribs. Or any of the other various bones I've broken over the years."

Derek shifted in his seat, finally pulling his hand out of reach but without the force Stiles had expected. Realizing that he was still bent over in order to be able to stretch and grab Derek's hand in the first place, Stiles righted himself and tried to tone down his embarrassment to a manageable amount.

"Do you break bones often?" Stiles started to shake his head because he hadn't broken a bone in probably a year, but he forced himself to shrug, dusting off his pants in a show of nonchalance he definitely didn't feel.

“What can I say, I’m always in movement and sometimes those movements end painfully. Plus I play lacrosse and that’s a contact sport. Bound to happen, you know what I mean?”

Narrowing his eyes, Derek leaned forward into Stiles’ space a little, however still respecting some sort of boundary that Stiles hadn’t noticed before. He rarely ever touched Stiles, didn’t throw him into any unsuspecting walls or grip his arm tight enough to cause a bruise. All he did now was glare and apparently worry. That was a new one at least.

“You aren’t first line. You’re not involved in the contact part of the sport.”

That stung, just a little, even though it was true. He tried, sometimes a little too hard. Being overshadowed by his best friend, who was already better liked before the werewolf thing even though they were both still in the mostly overlooked groups at school. Not that Stiles wanted to be the center of attention, but maybe he wanted to get some sort of recognition. 

It was a familiar tune, so Stiles stamped down on the involuntary pain that came with reminded of his lack of a social status and instead focused on what Derek had said.

“Yes, well first line has to practice don’t they?”

Derek’s eyes flashed red for a brief second but before Stiles could even work up a good panic attack that he’d done or said something wrong, that his throat was going to get ripped out or he was going to be thrown at something or punched or, worse, thrown from the pack, they returned to their natural color again.

“Your own teammates have hurt you? Did Jackson ever…” 

He left the rest of the question go unasked, but Stiles knew what he was getting at. Did Jackson ever hurt Stiles during practice? Well, that was a loaded question. Of course Jackson had hurt him during lacrosse, but only about half of them were on purpose. And he hadn’t been directly involved in Stiles breaking any bones except that once and Stiles could be honest in saying that it was his fault.

Jackson was heavier than he looked when he had fallen on Stiles who was trying to keep his stick out of the fray to keep from making the impact worse. It just happened that Jackson had fallen on Stiles wrist at the exact right angle to break it. 

After Jackson berated him for staying out of people’s ways, getting a few jabs in about not being on the field if you couldn’t even play the damn game, Stiles would swear that the older teen had looked a little apologetic. 

Not that he’d testify to that in the court of Derek Hale, who was interpreting Stiles’ silence as a yes. Which it was a yes, but not in the way Derek was thinking and--

“Whoa, whoa, no shifting. Shifting isn’t needed, please stop, oh my god don’t kill me.” The red flashing eyes dulled and the hair that had been sprouting seemed to recede and the nails shrunk back into the skin. The control that the alpha had was pretty daunting. If Scott (or now Jackson) could have half of that, Stiles wouldn’t have to worry about lacrosse practice anymore. As it was, he probably should start working on a plan for when things go absolutely pear shaped during practice. Maybe he could provide a distraction for the idiots. Set himself on fire or start shouting in tongues. 

He’d have to look into it once Derek stopped staring at him, something akin to confusion on his face.

“While Jackson might have been involved with some of my injures -- stop growling please? -- it wasn’t his fault. It’s a sport Derek. Surely you can understand that accidents happen, right?”

The confusion was replaced by irritation, but he nodded all the same. Letting out a breath Stiles hadn’t been aware he’d been holding he looked down at Derek’s hand once more. Even the discoloration was gone, which was pretty neat.

“I wonder if it works both ways. Obviously the pain like, manifests if you’re hurt, but what about me?”

Derek shook his head, but not at the inquiry.

“We’re not going to test the theory.”

Stiles laughed, thinking Derek was making a joke. Then he remembered that it was Derek and his sense of humor wasn’t exactly funny, therefore he must have been serious.

“You’re serious? What, you can do it but I can’t?” 

Shooting up from the couch, Derek started to pace around the living room, avoiding Stiles’ eyes.

“I can heal myself, you can’t. No. You’re just…”

He once again trailed off and Stiles had had enough, could feel the irritation and hurt he’d been bottling in since Scott had been bitten rise to the surface.

“I’m just what, some human? You’re right, I am just human. You don’t have to remind me every minute of the day, I know. But I’m not just some human, because most humans wouldn’t spend every day working with a bunch of egotistical, self absorbed, arrogant werewolves to make sure they don’t get caught or put in danger.”

Jumping up from the couch, ignoring the look that Derek was sending him, Stiles grabbed his book bag and jacket, throwing the jacket into the bag and throwing the bag onto his shoulder.

“And I wasn’t talking about something drastic, you… you… you asshole!”

Instead of dignifying the entire explosion with an explanation, or waiting for whatever response Derek could give it, Stiles stormed off in the direction of the front door.

It wasn’t until he’d made his way across the porch and down the steps that he was reminded that he hadn’t driven out to the Hale house but had caught a ride from Derek.

Shit.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Slinging his book bag higher up his shoulder, Stiles headed off towards the main road, fishing in his pocket for his phone. Once he found it, he scrolled through his contacts, dialing a few people he thought could come get him and not ask questions. The list was short, only Scott and Allison, and neither of them answered.

Probably because they were together. 

As he continued to look for a person who’d pick him up, he felt a familiar ache in his temples. He hunched down because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay standing, but the pain wasn’t as fierce as it had been before. His stomach also clenched and he bent over, heaving a little but not actually being sick. The pain lowered enough for him to wonder what had happened, if Derek was hurt, before shaking his head. He needed to get home; he needed to think about this somewhere else.

So after righting himself, he scrolled back up to a number he rarely ever dialed, pressing the call button before he could talk himself out of it. It rang a couple of times before a familiar voice answered.

“Hello?” Stiles glanced behind him, somehow thinking that Derek might have been right behind him after the last episode.

“Danny, I need a huge favor.”

\----------

Surprisingly it hadn’t taken much to get Danny to agree to drive out towards the old Hale estate and pick him up. It wasn’t until he was secure in the passenger seat of Danny’s car, rubbing the palms of his hands against his jeans to try to get some heat back into his skin, that he started to worry about just how easy it had been to get Danny out there.

“Thanks again man. If you just drop me off at the school, my car is there.”

Danny nodded, fiddling with the heat for a moment before leaning back. He cast a few glances towards Stiles who was doing his best to ignore the other teen as politely as possible.

“I have a question.” Of course he did.

“Shoot.” Which was poor word choice but he didn’t think on it. This was Danny, not a hunter.

“Jackson’s been acting really weird. With everything before the dance and now things seem almost worse. You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

Stiles tried not to show any emotion at the question, also trying not to focus on how much he wanted to punch Jackson again. Instead he pretended to think about it before shrugging.

“I mean, he’s always been a little unhinged. And the dance might have been the straw that broke the camel’s back or whatever. Plus, don’t you think you should talk to him about it? Jackson and I aren’t exactly tight. I thought he was your best friend or whatever.”

The look that Danny shot Stiles was enough to make Stiles wish he’d called his dad and dealt with the third degree.

“He is my best friend, but that doesn’t mean he tells me everything.”

Stiles thought about Scott, the things they kept from each other and how he felt second string to his own best friend. He wasn’t sure he was able to disguise the wince, but Danny didn’t question it.

The rest of the drive, thankfully, was quiet. When they pulled up to the school, Stiles didn’t make any move to get out of the car right away.

The thing was, he liked Danny. Despite being best friends with Jackson and sometimes a little holier than thou, Danny was still pretty awesome. And whether he knew it or not, he was now a human best friend to a werewolf. He kind of wondered if he needed to start a support group.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay. Jackson.” Danny offered a nod, although he had probably suspected that the conversation had been over. Instead of saying anything else, Stiles simply nodded and moved to leave the car. 

He was stopped by Danny’s hand on his arm.

“I only asked because I’ve seen Jackson around with Hale lately and that’s who was in your room, not your cousin. And because I just had to pick you up on the outskirts of the Hale estate.”

Stiles kept still, hoping that if he didn’t move or breathe or blink, Danny would forget he was there. Except it was Danny’s car. He really hadn’t thought any of this through, had he?

“Yeah, I uh, I know Derek. We’re not tight or anything, just acquaintances. Didn’t know that he and Jackson were… I think you should maybe talk to Jackson.”

And Stiles probably should give Jackson a heads up that Danny was suspicious. That’d look bad otherwise.

“I guess I find it strange, that you’re not tight or anything with someone that was in your bedroom.”

Stiles looked at Danny for a second before his brain caught up with everything he’d just said.

“Oh. That. I mean, you were in my room. You and I aren’t exactly tight, are we?”

Which sounded kind of harsh but was true. They weren’t tight. They were barely even really friends.

“Yes, but I wasn’t putting your clothes on.”

Which… was also true. At least Danny didn’t know what was really going on. That Stiles might or might not have been exploiting Danny’s sexuality and Derek’s… attractiveness… to get what they needed.

He definitely might have deserved that steering wheel to the face. He just wasn’t ever going to admit that to Derek.

“I’ll see you at school. Thanks again.”

Stiles quickly slipped out of the car, hoping that if he didn’t linger, Danny wouldn’t call him back. He made it to his car, throwing a light wave to Danny as he left the parking lot, before hoisting himself into his jeep. He started the engine and quickly turned on the heat, shivering. It wasn’t terribly cold, but it was cold enough.

While waiting for the jeep to warm up, Stiles fished out his phone and looked down at the two missed calls and one text. One was from his dad, probably wondering why he was so late. He didn’t leave a voicemail but Stiles noted the time on the call and knew he only had a short amount of time before his dad called again with a threat of grounding if he didn’t get his ass home. The other was from Derek’s number, although he hadn’t left a voicemail either. 

The text was from Derek too. Stiles opened it and stared at the words, trying to fight the slight hysterical laughter that was threatening to bubble out.

_This isn’t finished Stilinski._

Of course not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the many lovely people who gave the first chapter kudos and commented on this story. I'm sorry for the people that saw this updated and have been unable to actually read the update. For some reason it wasn't showing up.
> 
> And a special thank you to Rhiannon for giving me the names for the fic devices I've pulled from for this story. Soul bonding or psychic link. Of course my story is both but at the same time neither, so it helps and at the same time doesn't. But thank you again! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story. I might not be able to post for a while because my internet connection will be horrible, but have no fear. I have every intention of finishing this story.

At school the next day, Stiles tried three separate times to get Jackson alone to tell him what had happened with Danny. Each time Jackson had rolled his eyes and kept walking, even after Stiles had hinted that it was important and dealt with Jackson’s recent "development". On a douchebag scale of one to ten, Jackson had hit a thirteen when he got bit.

He even tried to stop Scott once, because while Stiles might not be on Jackson’s level, surely he had to answer to Scott? Did it work that way? Because Scott was bitten first, he had some pull over Jackson? Stiles had been relying on that but when he told Scott it was important and about Jackson, Scott had rolled his eyes and said that he was on his own.

He went one further and tried to stop Allison who had smiled sympathetically before saying that she didn’t want to get in between the boys. 

“If it has anything to do with the wolves, I shouldn’t have a hand in it.”

Stiles jerked his hands out in some all encompassing gesture that was lost on the both of them.

“You have a hand in it though, you’re totally involved with one therefore--” She shook her head, still smiling sadly at him, and started down the hall.

“Politics Stiles, I’m sorry. Try again after school? Corner him at his car.”

Which was a good idea, except he got held back in practice by Coach wanting to use him as an example to some of the not-as-good players on the first line. It was a ‘do better or this is what you’ll end up as’ lecture. 

Very uplifting.

In no hurry to change, since Jackson no doubt had already left and there was nothing he could do about it yet, Stiles leaned against his locker for a few minutes, rhythmically thumping the back of his head against the metal.

“What are you doing?” Stiles spun around, his heart vacating his chest and lodging itself somewhere behind his adam’s apple at being startled. Danny was pulling his pants back on, staring at Stiles as if he’d lost his mind.

Which yeah, he probably had. Let’s be honest.

“Oh, you know. Sucking at lacrosse as usual.”

Making a noise in the back of his throat, maybe one of sympathy, Danny turned around to pull his shirt on. He was definitely aesthetically pleasing. Not that Stiles noticed these things, because he only had eyes for a certain sourwolf that he wasn’t talking to. It just was an observation.

“You’re not that bad. Seriously, if you worked a little harder at not trying to be the best but perfect the things you’re not good at? You’d probably make first line before the end of the season.”

Stiles eyed Danny as he slipped his socks and tennis shoes on, feeling simultaneously curious and suspicious.

“And what are the things that I’m not good at?” After a beat, Danny shrugged and looked into his locker, making sure he had everything.

“It’s not like I keep a list of things you need to work on Stiles. But if you ever wanted a little help on it, just let me know. I have a job after school but I’m off on the weekends.”

With one more shrug, Danny left the locker room, leaving a shocked and silent Stiles behind. It was a feat, to shock Stiles into silence. He scrambled to get undressed and redressed, hopping around on one foot before he could get his other shoe on, slamming his locker shut and carrying his bags while running down the hall towards the parking lot. Danny was getting into his car and Stiles slid to a halt in front of him, barely missing colliding with the vehicle.

“Yes. I’d like some help.” Danny smiled, nodding his head and looking down at his watch.

“I’m going to be late if I don’t go now. I’ll text you when I get off work and we can come up with a schedule?”

Stiles nodded, smiling and saying thank you about a dozen times as the other teen got into his car and drove off. 

It was something that Stiles wanted, something he wanted more than he could say. It might not fix everything, but it would give him some recognition. It would help him be able to deal with the dejection of still being the second string to his best friend if he could just be first string at lacrosse.

Which was a total lie, but it was important to Stiles. How awesome would it look on his applications for colleges as well? 

Getting into the jeep, Stiles checked his phone for the time and was not very surprised to see a text from his father.

_Don’t get another detention. Come straight home. Discussing your punishment._

He could bite that bullet and hope that his father would still let him out for some extra lacrosse practice if he promised not to bend the rules and pay a little more attention in school… for the time being, at least.

\-----------

“Maybe he has a crush on you?” 

The sound that Stiles made was pretty interesting, a cross between a cough and a laugh and a snort. Scott’s face didn’t change, being pretty used to Stiles’ and his ways, but Allison looked concerned. 

The two of them were on Scott’s computer, their faces pixilated and love stricken whenever their eyes met. Stiles was grateful enough that Scott was able to work him into his busy schedule of being a werewolf, playing lacrosse, and trying to get to second base with his perfect girlfriend.

Not that Stiles was bitter or anything.

“You okay Stiles?” Stiles waved off Allison’s concern before glaring at Scott’s face on the screen.

“I’m fine. And I really don’t think he has a crush on me. Not that I don’t think I’m a worthy catch because I mean, obviously, but I think he’s just being helpful.”

Neither Allison nor Scott knew that Danny was involved with what Stiles had wanted to tell Jackson, they didn’t know he’d taken him home from Derek’s last night, they didn’t know that he’d been with Derek last night.

Although Scott might have suspected since he apparently texted Derek about him having detention, which Stiles was going to have words with him about. In person. Where he could hit him if necessary.

“Stiles? You better not be on that computer.” 

Stiles made a face before telling Scott and Allison he’d see them in the morning before shutting down his computer.

“Of course not dad, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” There was a moment of silence, one that Stiles imagined was filled with the Sheriff heaving a long suffering sigh.

“Get your ass down here and set the table.”

The terms of his punishment was that he had to actually do his chores without complaining, wasn’t allowed on his computer for anything that wasn’t school work related (“and no loopholes young man”), had to drive only to and from school. His dad would be checking his mileage. 

“And remember son, I am very good at my job. I will issue a bulletin to the entire force that if they see your car, they can pull you over. Don’t make me abuse my position just to enforce your grounding.”

Stiles hadn’t mentioned his deal with Danny yet, but he wanted to wait as long as he could without waiting too long. Maybe ask him on Thursday. His dad would be proud of him asserting himself like that, trying to find a way to better himself in some small way.

It wasn’t like his grades were bad. Or, well, most of his grades.

As Stiles set the table, his dad put the food down and ran a hand over his face. There were a few folders on the table, which meant that he was working a case that was giving him a hard time. Hopefully this time, alcohol wouldn’t be involved.

“Tough case?” The sheriff, because that’s what he was, even when he was working at home, shook his head and flipped the folders over so that Stiles couldn’t even see the words written on them.

“You know I can’t talk about it Stiles, I don’t know why you bother.” Stiles shrugged, pouring them both a glass of water before sitting down.

“Figure one day you’ll crack.” The sheriff smiled, shaking his head in amused exasperation this time before sitting down across from his son.

“I will tell you this, because it’ll be public knowledge by the morning. That girl from your school, Lydia Martin? She woke up.”

The sound of the fork hitting his plate echoed in the room, causing Stiles to wince as he tried to catch it before it hit the table.

“Lydia woke up? Is she okay?” Nodding, the sheriff started to twirl the spaghetti on his fork.

“The doctors say she’ll be fine. She’ll be in the hospital for a while longer, has to heal up more before they can let her go home.”

Stiles shifted in his chair, remembering his conversation with her while she was comatose. Which was less of a conversation and more of Stiles talking and Lydia not being able to run away.

“Did she say anything when she woke up? Anything about what happened?” His dad shot him a look, one that said the conversation was over and there’d be no more talk of shop while eating. 

After he finished, scarfing down the food so fast his stomach actually turned a bit, Stiles excused himself to his bedroom, promising to do the dishes before he went to sleep. He was sure if he asked, his dad would let him go to the hospital to visit Lydia. There were too many questions surrounding her attack, the police still questioning a lot that happened that night even though some of the questions were answered by a suspiciously placed necklace on Kate Argent’s body. And Stiles had a few questions of his own.

Suddenly Stiles had more to worry about besides Derek, the mysterious headaches which he hadn’t suffered at all today, making first line on lacrosse, helping Scott and Jackson and Derek not draw attention to themselves, keeping Danny off of Jackson’s case, and the usual teen stuff.

It was exhausting. 

\-----------

The hospital was buzzing with activity, as it usually was. Scott’s mom had seen Stiles come in, smiling at him and politely telling him not to cause any problems. Of course he’d pretended to be offended but he knew better.

When he got to Lydia’s room, he was surprised by the number of people outside of it. Her parents were bickering back and forth, their voices getting louder until one of the doctors told them to either take it outside or separate themselves. Allison was there, talking in a low voice with someone from school. When she noticed Stiles, she smiled and waved but made no move to go to him.

He could see her through the windows, sitting up in bed and talking to a doctor and a police officer, gesturing shallowly and glancing down at her side. He had seen her in many different ways, but this was one he hadn’t ever thought possible for Lydia Martin. She was meek at best.

Her eyes met his and for a moment before she looked away. There hadn’t even been a look of recognition, but he was sure his dad would have mentioned if there was any memory loss. It had to be just that nothing had changed, that he was barely even a speck of dirt on her shoe.

He thought things had changed but they really hadn’t. And he wasn’t sure if he was happy for that or not.

The door opened and the officer left, nodding to Stiles as he passed, because Stiles knew every cop that worked in Beacon Hills either from personal experience or through his dad.

The doctor came next, scanning the room quickly before his eyes landed on Stiles.

“You the Stilinski boy?” At Stiles nod, the man opened the door a little wider.

“Miss Martin asks that you come in for a few minutes. And only for a few minutes. She needs her rest. I’m just about to send this group home.”

Stiles was more than a little surprised by that, but he nodded again and made his way into the hospital room, shutting the door behind him. Lydia didn’t speak when he got in there, they both simply watched the group get up and leave. A few waved, a few looked like they’d like nothing more than to just camp out there, but they slowly all left. 

Allison was the last to leave and she got a small wave from Lydia, which she returned quickly. After that, the only ones left were her parents who were still bickering.

“Can’t believe how many people skipped school just to come see me.” Stiles turned to face Lydia, even though she wasn’t looking at him. Her words were just spoken, not directed at him but not directed at just herself either.

“Guess you underestimate how many people care about you.” Her eyes widened a little and she looked up at Stiles as if she hadn’t known he was there. Except she had to, because she asked for him.

“You came to visit me. Not just today. Before."

He wanted to deny it except that it was true and it wasn’t like he was ashamed of it. He had tricked his way into her bedroom after the attack at the video store but this wasn’t the same. He wasn’t here for the recognition of it, wasn’t here to be her hero or to possibly get some drugged up attention. He was here because he genuinely cared about Lydia.

And he genuinely needed to know what she remembered.

“Of course I did. You were my date and you were attacked. If I didn’t visit, it would look suspicious.” 

He tried to draw the conversation to a head naturally, didn’t want to launch right into the Spanish Inquisition, wanted to use humor to get what he was looking for.

He should have known it wouldn’t have worked.

“But you know it wasn’t you. You were there though; I remember hearing your voice. I remember hearing your voice and then… it’s been like a dream. I haven’t told the doctors because I don’t understand it and I don’t want them to think I’m crazy. I’m not though, am I?”

Stiles looked over his shoulder, checking to make sure the doctor wasn’t about to barge in, before sitting in the chair like he had when he’d been there a few days ago. Had it only been a few days?

“What do you remember Lydia?”

She sighed, a haughty sound that didn’t match her defeated features. 

“I was attacked and I kept… I kept having these dreams. I was trapped in them, they were nightmares. There was a fire and people were screaming. Then there were animals and a young woman. There was so much violence. I could hear this man’s voice, he sounded insane, the things he was saying. I saw Scott and I saw you. I saw… oh, I don’t remember it all. Or maybe I don’t want to remember it all.”

At some point, Stiles had reached out to grab Lydia’s hand while she was talking. It was an unconscious gesture, one that resembled him reaching out for Derek’s sleeve way too much but he wasn’t focusing on that. 

Lydia, for all her bravado of being untouchable, was shaken by what she was saying.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that Lydia.”

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get there first, that’s what he’d wanted to say. He didn’t want her to know how much he blamed himself though. She seemed to snap out of her trance and looked up at Stiles for a moment before nodding.

“You know, don’t you? You know what happened.” 

Stiles wanted to say no, wasn’t sure this was his secret to tell, but he couldn’t lie to her. Her hair was a mess of tangles, although it was obvious she’d tried to brush it earlier. Her pale face was free of makeup; circles around her eyes that made her look tired. She had bandages wrapped around her, although he couldn’t see all of them. It was impossible for him to look at her and not want to tell her the truth, if just to ease her mind.

“What do you know about werewolves?”

\------------

Somehow, the rest of Stiles’ week went by without a hitch. Allison and Scott were still attached to the hip, Danny was nice during practices, Jackson was still an entitled asshole, classes were still only vaguely challenging, his dad still worked too hard and cared too much, he was still avoiding Derek, and he still went to see Lydia every day.

That part was new, but the Sheriff had been okay with it. He said that it would be nice, that maybe it would help Lydia remember what happened. Of course he didn’t know that Stiles had already told her what happened and that’s why he was continuously invited back.

Lydia was different. She was still sarcastic, still tried to act dumb, still beautiful, still thought herself above mere mortals, but there was something drastically different about her if you caught her unaware. 

She knew she wasn’t invincible, she knew there were more important things than high school and popularity. It was strange to go into her hospital room and be able to talk to her like a person instead of worshipping her from afar.

And because Stiles did his chores without complaint, actually devoted himself to homework and schoolwork, and didn’t get in trouble at all past that first detention, his dad agreed to let him meet up with Danny on Friday after school.

“Sorry, sorry, dude I’m sorry I’m so late. I was at the hospital.” Danny looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow at Stiles who was tripping and tumbling over the fallen branches on his way to the clearing that Danny and Stiles had agreed on for the training. It was in the woods, bordering Derek’s domain, but Stiles wouldn’t have been able to complain without drawing attention to it.

“Everything okay?” Stiles stopped short as he was depositing his gear on a stump near Danny’s, wondering where that question came from, before realizing what he meant.

“Oh no, I wasn’t there for me. Yeah, no, I was visiting Lydia.”

He stopped short after the words were out, remembering that this was Danny and not one of his usual circle that knew everything that happened. Instead of Danny being suspicious or launching into a game of twenty questions, he simply nodded and smiled.

“That’s nice of you Stiles. Okay, so I guess what we need to focus on first is footwork.”

They spent an hour working on Stiles’ footwork, running sprints and obstacles and other torturous routines until Danny called for a break. They each drank half a bottle of water, breathing heavily and mumbling under their breath to each other before moving on to the next step.

“It’s a contact sport Stiles. You try to avoid contact, which is good in some cases, but you have to be able to actually hit and be hit without breaking.”

They traded off, with Stiles hitting Danny and trying to get past him and with Danny hitting Stiles. The first few jarred his nerves but once he got into the motion of it, he was able to absorb the hit and keep going.

That was until he got his feet trapped under him and Danny got tripped up on Stiles’ extra limbs. They hit the ground, with Danny half on top of him and half on the ground. Neither of them were wearing helmets, because they were teen boys and sometimes idiots, so when Stiles fell, his head hit the ground hard.

At first it was just the pain of the impact, plus Danny’s weight pushing the air out of lungs. It only took a second for the next wave of pain to come over him. He hadn’t felt it since the last time he’d seen Derek, before he called Danny to pick him up, but this was worse. The pain in the back of his head was met with the pain from the front of his head, plus the nausea and the soreness his body took on.

It was like his muscles had all contracted and were held stiff while he was in pain. He could barely hear Danny’s voice, his eyes screwed tightly shut so he wasn’t entirely sure if it was coming from above or beside him. 

He did the only thing he could think of, pictured Derek’s face and the way his eyes calmed when their hands had touched. How the pain had disappeared completely. He focused on that feeling until it was achieved, although not gone completely. There was still a dull ache, but it came from the back of his head and not the front, so that was probably just the injury itself.

“Stiles? Answer me!” Eyes opening slowly, Stiles saw Danny leaning over him looking worried, one hand poised as if he’d just slapped him. The stinging in his cheek told him that he had. 

He was reminded of slapping Derek a few times before taking the chance and punching him, the pain rippling through his hand when he did.

“Did you slap me? Dude. Rude.” Danny sat back on his heels, torn between looking amused and relieved.

“It was either that or kissing you awake.” Stiles made a face, not making a move to sit up yet. His vision was still swimming a bit.

“Jerk. I’m not a damsel in distress. Admit it; you just wanted a piece of this.”

Deciding on amused, Danny laughed as he stood up and offered a hand to help Stiles up in increments. While his vision swam, going from hazy to blurry back to hazy, he was sure that he saw a familiar broody figure in the distance. When his eyes cleared, he looked again but didn’t see anything.

“No offense but you’re not my type.”

Stiles frowned as Danny finally lifted him up, swaying on his feet a bit as he did.

“But do you find me attractive?” Danny gave a long suffering sigh, one that was familiar from his father, before pushing Stiles over towards their bags.

“Come on, we need to see if you have a concussion so I know if I need to take you to the hospital.”

Still frowning, Stiles reached up to hold his head as if he was trying to hold his brain, feeling the throb increase as he moved.

“Couldn’t we have done that while I was on the ground and not moving?”

\----------

It wasn’t a concussion, but they decided to take it easy and call it a day. Tomorrow they’d work on logistics, to give Stiles’ head a chance to heal completely. Of course Stiles complained, because he felt fine. A little dizzy maybe, but fine. He also complained when Danny said he shouldn’t drive home, but the logistics of leaving his jeep on the outskirts of the woods was something neither of them wanted to deal with.

“I’ll call Scott. He can ride with Allison, get here and grab my jeep. You don’t need to wait for them to get here though.”

Danny shook his head, leaning against the side of his car and watched Stiles dial Scott’s number. It went to voicemail twice before he called Allison. After hanging up and calling again, Allison finally answered.

“Yes Stiles?” 

And honestly, what was with his friends and the long suffering noises they made whenever he was around? He was starting to feel unappreciated.

Starting, hah.

“I’m out with Danny and I don’t have a concussion but he won’t let me drive home. So do you think you and Scott can come out here and pick me up and have him drive my jeep home?”

There was some conversation on the other side of the call before Allison said they’d be there soon, getting their location before hanging up.

“Scott’s going to hate me for interrupting their time together. It’s been limited since… uh, well, a while.”

He knew that Danny was looking at him strangely and he was well aware of the fact that he was borderline rambling. He needed to hold that in before he said the wrong thing.

They were silent for a while before Danny spoke again.

“If you knew that there was something wrong with someone, something big, would you tell someone? If they were in trouble and could hurt themselves or someone else?”

Stiles looked up, shrugging a bit and trying to hide how twitchy he felt. This was getting into the territory of things he did not want to talk about.

“I mean, I guess it depends? Maybe. Lots of unknown factors that aren’t known.”

Snapping his mouth shut, Stiles pretend to get very distracted by his cell phone, ticking through his old text messages. His finger skimmed over Derek’s name, realizing it’d been a few days since he’d talked to the older man. He missed him. His storming off had been childish, but he didn’t regret it. He hated feeling helpless, which was what Derek had made him feel by reminding him he was just human.

“I think Jackson is doing drugs, steroids.”

If Stiles had been drinking, it would have shot out of his nose. As it was, air was pushed from his lungs and he started to cough, regretting it as it made his head pound more. 

“Jackson? Drugs? No. All that hostility is just grade A raging douche bag. And he’s only better on the field because of god given talent, although I heard a rumor he might have sold his soul to the devil for his talent. Personally I thought he’d have sold it for his looks, but you never know.”

Danny watched Stiles like most people did when he went off on his spiels, as if he’d lost his mind. Sometimes Stiles wondered if he hadn’t.

“Are you saying you think Jackson is attractive?”

And of course that’s what Danny picked up on. The term gaydar came to mind. Danny’s must have been broken. Although Stiles wasn’t sure if he was gay or just had male on male feelings for one man in particular.

“Did I? Must have missed that.”

Danny turned his head to the side, observing Stiles as if he was some sort of interesting lab experiment. 

“I’ve always gotten this vibe from you.” It took a second before Stiles realized what he said.

“What? Really? Dude, I’ve only known for a little while, how have you always had a vibe about me? Couldn’t you share or something? Damn man.”

Of course it took a few seconds for Stiles to catch on to what had just poured out of his mouth, mostly by the widening of Danny’s eyes.

“So you are? You’re gay?” 

This was so not the time to be having this conversation. Or the place. Or with this person. How in the hell had they gone from concussion to Jackson on steroids to Jackson being attractive to Stiles being gay?

Probably starting with the concussion.

“Listen I’m not… I don’t know what I am, but I don’t want it public knowledge that I’m not… I don’t want… which isn’t to say that there is anything wrong with…”

Danny was smiling, although Stiles wasn’t entirely sure it was kindly. It looked a little scary.

“I’m not going to out you. I’m just glad to have confirmation.”

Suddenly what Scott had said sprang to mind and Stiles shifted backwards a bit.

“You uh… you wouldn’t happen to have some sort of gay crush on me, right? Because I’d be flattered but I’d have to let you down.”

This time Danny’s laugh was loud, causing him to hold his stomach. Every time he stopped laughing, he’d look at Stiles and start over again. It got to the point that Stiles was a little insulted.

“It’s not a crazy leap of judgment. I’m a catch, damn it!”

Danny stopped laughing, still hiccupping and wiping tears from his eyes as Allison’s car appeared in the distance.

“I’m sure you are Stiles, but like I said, you’re not my type. No offense meant, of course.”

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Allison’s car to get closer before he leant forward towards Danny.

“But am I attractive to gay guys?” It was a peace offering, accepted as Danny rolled his eyes and laughed again, sliding off the side of his car to approach where Allison had pulled in. While he told Allison and Scott what had happened, leaving out that they had been training per Stiles’ request, Stiles shouted over the distance.

“Hey, that’s not an answer!”

\-----------

“Danny suspects something.” Scott glanced over at Stiles surprised, swerving a little bit. They were almost to Stiles’ house, Allison following behind them.

“What do you mean?”

He fumbled with his phone, pushing it deeper into his pocket. Danny had told him quietly to meet same time, same place tomorrow. Now that the haze of his almost-concussion was lifted, he was worried about what it could mean that Danny was so persistent. 

“I mean he suspects something. He’s connected Jackson with Derek and he knows that I’m connected… well, he remembers Derek being Miguel so… what I’m saying is, he’s noticed that Jackson’s acting odd. He said he thought it was steroids. Sound familiar?”

Scott flushed but nodded. When this all began, he’d been accused by Jackson of juicing up. Which, to be honest, was the only logical reason Scott had gotten as good as he had at their sport.

“So what do you think we should do?”

Stiles felt a surge of something, usefulness maybe. Not only was Scott including him in this, but he was the one that could fix it.

He just didn’t know how to go about it.

“You remember how it went with Jackson. He thought it was steroids, but how long did it take him to make the leap to werewolf? And Danny is twice as smart as Jackson. It’s only a matter of time.”

Scott thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel, over correcting as he started to drift into the other lane.

“I guess just stay away from him for a while? Give us time to figure something out.”

Stiles winced, knowing he needed to bite the bullet but not knowing exactly how to go about it.

“I’m uh, not sure how well that’ll work.” Scott shot him a hard look, one Stiles wasn’t sure he’d ever been on the receiving end of.

“Why not?” 

“Because Danny and I are… well, we hang out now. In the woods.”

Which was definitely something friends did because he and Scott did it all the time. Used to. Used to do all the time.

“Are you two…?” He made a motion with his hand and Stiles slapped a hand to his forehead, regretting it as it made the dull throb return.

“Why do people keep asking me that? No. We’re not…” Stiles copied the motion and then slumped in his seat.

If so many people had these ideas about him, why couldn’t they have shared them with him? It would have saved him a lot of odd nights wondering if he was going insane or if thinking about a certain older, slightly murderous werewolf was actually giving him a boner.

The answer was yes, it did give him a boner. Multiple boners. He spent a good deal of the time looking for the alpha, and slightly even more now that Derek was the alpha, with his hand on his dick and Derek’s name on his lips.

Wow. Bad thought process.

“I’m just saying, if you were. If there was a guy somewhere that you… guy or girl. I don’t care. You’re always going to be my best friend. Unless it is me. Or Allison. Then things might be weird.”

No shit.

\----------

Not long after Scott left, Stiles got into his jeep and started driving back the way they had just come. He had promised Scott and Allison, mostly Allison, that he wouldn’t leave the house but he couldn’t help it. He also promised his dad that he wouldn’t go anywhere unless discussing it with him first, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t agree to this particular destination.

Driving up and down the road aimlessly while Stiles tried to talk himself out of his decision, he finally had to turn into the dirt road that led to Derek’s house before he drew too much attention to himself. Derek’s car wasn’t in the front but Stiles knew that didn’t automatically mean that Derek wasn’t there.

After stopping the engine, he stayed in the car and waited. If Derek didn’t come out, he either wasn’t there or didn’t want to talk to him. He wasn’t going to go knock on his door and wait for him. He wasn’t going to be pathetic.

Or more pathetic than he already seemed.

He didn’t have to wait long before the front door opened and Derek stepped out, except he didn’t move from the porch. There were a few moments where they stared at one another, waiting, trying to see who would crack first.

Stiles was actually surprised that Derek was the one that cracked. He made his way down the steps and across the grass to where Stiles was parked, motioning to the passenger door and actually waiting for Stiles’ nod before getting in.

“Were you just going to sit out here alone if I wasn’t home?” Stiles shrugged, because yes he was.

“I mean, when aren’t you home exactly? Just an observation. You’re always at home unless you’re at school waiting for me to get out of detention or… were you at the field today? When I was playing lacrosse with Danny?”

Derek’s face changed and he looked away from Stiles, staring instead out of the window. 

“I was out for a walk, came upon an unknown scent. I got there right before you did.”

Stiles nodded and then stilled, turning to gape at Derek as he did.

“But I saw you, I saw you after I hit my head. That was an hour and a half after I got there, easily. You stayed there that long?”

Derek shrugged, his gaze hardening as he looked out of the window. Stiles could see by the set of his shoulders, the rigid line of his back, that he wasn’t happy at the moment. Probably not long before his eyes flashed red and everything went to shit. 

“Did you… I guess you did, then? Feel the… thing. When I got knocked out?” 

Fingers tightening in anger, Derek turned to face Stiles, glaring at him harder than he had in a long while. Coupled with the ruby red glowing eyes, Stiles found himself actually scared. 

“Did you do that on purpose? To test this… bond.” 

Well… no. Stiles hadn’t even thought about it actually. 

“Not on purpose, but it worked. You felt it too?” Derek’s eyes narrowed and he reached out, stopping just short of actually touching Stiles’ throat. 

It was the first threatening gesture he’d made since before he became alpha and although Stiles was pretty sure Derek wouldn’t actually hurt him, he wasn’t completely sure and really didn’t want to take the chance. 

He ducked backwards, inching his neck out of Derek’s direct reach. It wasn’t much, Derek could probably still tear out his innards without breaking a sweat, but it was enough to cause Derek to sit back, his eyes still flashing red.

“It’s stronger when it happens to you. When it is mine, it doesn’t hurt as much as when it is yours. The pain.”

Stiles nodded, scratching his fingers over his leg, trying not to notice when Derek’s eyes strayed to where his hand was moving.

“I think it is getting stronger. The first one was barely anything but the past few have taken their toll. I also… it helps if you’re around or if I think about you. I was remembering how easily it went away at your house and it… went away.”

Nodding, Derek looked back out of the window.

“I won’t lie to you Stiles. I have no idea what this is, what it means, how to stop it. Most of the journals in my family’s library were ruined in the fire but the ones I have found, I haven’t been able to figure anything out.”

With a sigh, Stiles bent forward until his forehead pressed against the steering wheel.

“Are we going to be stuck like this? Because it sucks.”

There was a noise and Stiles had to turn his head to see what it was. Derek was laughing. He tried to keep his mouth straight, but he was laughing, eyes no longer flashing red.

“You have a knack for stating the obvious.” 

Stiles laughed because yeah, he really did. At some point while being bent over and laughing, releasing the stress that neither of them mentioned before now, Stiles’ hand had gone over to touch just above Derek’s knee. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it until he felt Derek’s hand cover his own. Not to move it, not to break it, but seemingly to keep it there.

Interesting. Very, very interesting.

“We’ll figure it out though, right? We won’t stop until we know what’s going on.” It was stupid to ask for reassurance, but this was something way out of Stiles’ realm of comprehension. Werewolves, sure, he could come to grips with that. Magical headaches that linked him to a werewolf through pain? That… was something he wasn’t sure he even wanted to understand.

“Of course we won’t stop, idiot.” 

Even though it was supposed to be an insult, there was no bite behind the words. Even if there had been, it would have been offset by the gentle hand resting on top of his, the thumb rubbing lightly over Stiles’ knuckles.

It was distracting. And giving false hope. Or what might not be false hope because this didn’t feel false, but he really didn’t want to read it wrong. There was still a good chance that Derek was just really shitty with social interactions and he thought this was fine.

It was fine. If that was the case, he should definitely continue to think that it was fine.

“I came here to be the bigger man. To apologize for storming out like I did.”

Derek squeezed his hand before removing it, crossing his arms over his chest. God, the tshirt and the muscles and the… ugh, Stiles was screwed if he didn’t focus on what was going on.

“You came here for recognition.”

Tensing, Stiles pulled his hand back and rubbed his palms against his legs.

“Is there something wrong with that? With wanting recognition for all the shit I do for your pack? I research, I do damage control, I handle the human side. Is it too much to ask for a ‘good job Stiles’ or, or, fuck, a ‘thank you Stiles’? Why is that a big deal? Why is me wanting that such a bad thing?”

He was getting upset again, he could feel his fight or flight instincts kicking in, leaning obviously more towards flight than fight. He wanted to leave, put the Hale house in his rearview mirror, but Derek was in his car and that would definitely defeat the purpose.

“I didn’t mean it like that. And I didn’t mean to treat you like just a human. I know how much you do for us, stuff you don’t have to do and yet still do. I’m grateful. You’re part of this group and you do more than your fair share. It’s not too much to ask for a little recognition.”

Derek’s words were directed to his lap rather than actually to Stiles, but he wasn’t about to complain. He was too busy committing every word to memory so that he could recall it on the days he felt like shit.

It didn’t erase the feeling completely, but it made it almost obsolete for the time being. He could deal with it later, for now he was just fine.

“Well uh, that’s good. That you know that. And that I help. Good.” 

Derek nodded, turning to open the jeep door. Before he got out, he leaned into Stiles’ space and pressed his lips against Stiles’ neck.

“Thank you Stiles.” The words were mumbled against the skin, but Stiles heard it. The car door was shut and Derek was heading across the porch before Stiles could even open his mouth. 

And as if the skin in his neck was hardwired to his dick, he spent the whole drive home trying desperately not to palm his crotch. Wouldn’t do to die in a car accident before he got to use that little moment in various fantasies. 

\-----------

“No, you have to… look here, where the defense is set up, do you see how it is supposed to work? In a perfect case, the other pers-- Stiles, would you please pay attention? I’m taking time out of my weekend to teach this to you, the least you could do is focus a little.”

Stiles’ head snapped up and he winced, first at the slight whiplash he’d given himself and then at the glare Danny was giving him.

“I’m sorry. I swear, I swear I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.” Danny sighed; putting the paper he was drawing on beside him and leaning forward, he pressed his forearms against his knees.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Opening and shutting his mouth a few times, Stiles settled for shaking his head. Although Danny stared at him for a few moments, as if making sure he meant it, he still ended up breaking down just as Danny reached for the papers again.

“It’s just; something might or might not have happened. And I don’t know if I want it to have happened or not. Obviously I do, but at the same time it’ll mess things up, so I’m not sure. But what if it doesn’t mess things up and something actually goes right for once? Except it’s my life so I’m not sure it’s allowed to go right. You know what I mean?”

When he looked up from where he’d been watching his own hand gestures, it was to see Danny shaking his head.

“Maybe if you told me what was going on?”

Stiles shook his head again, but Danny didn’t fall for it.

“Is this about the gay thing?” Stiles looked around wildly, as if Derek would once again pop up and hear the conversation. 

“Maybe? It’s not really directly related… okay, it is. It really, really is. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Danny smiled, patting Stiles’ leg in a comforting gesture. Three quick pats and then he pulled his hand away, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for Stiles to explain what was going on.

“It’s just this guy! He’s infuriating and kind of difficult for me to be around sometimes. Abrasive. That’s the best word I can think to describe him. Definitely an acquired taste. Not that I’ve tasted him. Just a saying. Anyways, he might have or might not have kind of come on to me last night. I don’t know because, believe or not, I haven’t had much experience with that kind of thing.”

Whatever was on the tip of Danny’s tongue about that last bit, he kept it to himself. Instead he asked something else.

“This happened last night? He came to your house?” Stiles winced, standing up and pacing because honestly he’d been sitting still for too long anyways. Had nothing to do with the fact that he knew Danny was going to berate him.

Nothing at all.

“No. I might have driven out to see him.”

He didn’t have to see Danny to know he was rolling his eyes.

“Okay. So what it is it that he might or might not have done?” 

This was where it gets tricky. Except it wasn’t tricky at all. He was a little suspicious about the fact that Danny hadn’t asked who the mystery man was. If anyone had been having this discussion with him, that would have been one of the first questions he asked.

Which was probably why Danny didn’t ask, he wasn’t as nosy as Stiles.

“He uh, put his mouth on my neck?” He chanced a glance at Danny, trying not to show any emotion at the relative shock on Danny’s face.

“I think you missed a chunk of the story. I never pegged you for the type of guy to hook up with someone--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. There was no hooking going on. Hook upping? I don’t know, but it wasn’t going on. He didn’t kiss my neck. He put his mouth on my neck. And spoke.” 

This stopped Danny’s shocked face, but the expression that replaced it was more suspicious than anything.

“What did he say?” 

“He thanked me?” A smirk crossed over Danny’s face.

“That’s an interesting way to thank someone.”

Having no control over involuntary physical reactions, Stiles knew he was blushing. Which was shit, because it wasn’t like that, no matter how much Stiles would have liked it to. Not that he was 100% sure that Derek wouldn’t be into him that way, because you don’t really put your lips to another guy’s neck just because you can.

At least he was pretty sure that’s how it worked.

“It’s not like that. Even if it was… it’s just not, okay? But I swear, I’m paying attention; let’s get back to the logistics.”

Danny looked like he was about to say more, maybe offer a heap of gay advice (or advice on how to be gay, that sounded less insulting), but Stiles grabbed the papers and thrust them under Danny’s nose.

“Now which one is me?”

\-----------

The next pack meeting, late on Sunday, was awkward. It didn’t help that Stiles had lied to Danny and said his dad didn’t want him to leave and then lied to his dad and said that he needed to meet Danny. He hated lying. He could do it when he wanted to, that was fine, but he hated being forced to lie.

So on top of the guilt of lying to his dad and Danny, Stiles was forced to sit through two hours of listening to the wolves talk shop while trying not to put off any emotion. Because he was surrounded by wolves, at least two of which had a grasp on their senses (Scott had gotten a lot better at the sniffing the air thing), he didn’t want to give away the slight sexual frustration.

Especially since one of those wolves was the cause of said sexual frustration.

He was also doing his damnedest not to think about what happened in his jeep on Friday, except that by trying not to think about it, it was all he could think about. Not that he thought Derek could read minds, although he wouldn’t put it past him. He wasn’t sure how the connection worked. 

Derek had expressly told him to stay after the meeting so they could discuss the connection, which Stiles wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to or dreading. 

It wasn’t until the end of the meeting, as Jackson and Scott were headed towards the door that Stiles remembered he had something to mention.

“Shit, guys, wait. There’s something that’s going on that is kind of important.” They stopped, Scott looking confused and Jackson looking irritated. Derek was propped against the wall, sending Stiles a look he couldn’t really decipher.

“I’ve been spending time with Danny and--” Jackson sighed, turning back towards the door.

“No one cares about your love life, Stiles, even if he is too good for you.”

There was a growl, and at first Stiles thought it had come from him. Scott was cowering, even though it wasn’t directed at him. Derek was openly glaring at Jackson, with such hostility that Stiles even flinched. And Jackson, for all his nonchalance and better than you attitude, ducked his head down to avoid his alpha’s eyes.

“Shut up and listen to him.” There was a beat before Jackson turned around, avoiding everyone’s eyes but obviously paying attention.

“Like I was saying, I’ve been spending time with Danny and he’s starting to suspect something is up. With Jackson. Who is apparently acting more like a dick than usual.”

Everyone turned to look at Jackson who was glaring in self defense.

“It’s not my fault!” Except it totally was his fault and the guilt that was working its way onto his face said that he knew it too.

“I told you. I told you before I bit you that your choices were to either stop associating with your human friends or to not act like anything is different. You picked the second one but you couldn’t even handle it!” 

Derek was getting pissed, eyes flashing violently as he stared down Jackson. And as much as Stiles wanted to go over to him, to place his hand on his arm and calm him down, he knew it wasn’t his place. Nor was now the time.

Instead his fisted his hand into his pocket, curled his fingers around his keys until it hurt. It took a second but Derek’s hands tensed, his eyes narrowing from the pain of the headache that was also pounding in Stiles’ head now. He cut a glance to Stiles, eyes dropping to where his fingers were curled around his keys in his pocket, before looking back at Jackson.

“What is the chance of him figuring it out?”

This time it was Scott that answered, taking a page out of Stiles’ book. 

“Well, Jackson figured it out and Danny’s definitely smarter.” The look that Jackson shot Scott would have been funny, if it wasn’t so true.

“He won’t figure it out. It is probably just bothering him a little right now, we have time.”

Stiles shook his head, somehow garnering the attention of all three werewolves with the motion.

“It’s not just bothering him a little. It’s been bothering him for a while. He approached me about it almost a week ago!”

Jackson snapped to attention at that, leaning forward towards Stiles even though there was almost an entire living room between them.

“And why are you just now bringing this up?” He was angry, his eyes starting to tinge amber. Stiles could feel the anger in the room, but not just from Jackson. Scott had moved minutely, so that he would be able to jump in front of Stiles in case anything happened. And Derek…

Derek’s eyes were flashing red again, hair starting to sprout on his face and hands, but Stiles wasn’t really sure if the anger was directed at him or not.

“Just now? Just now! I’m not just now bringing this up, you self entitled… ass! I’ve been trying to talk to you all week. You dodge me in the halls, you duck me at practice, you never returned my phone calls and it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in a text or an email. So don’t you dare try to pin this one on me Whittemore, because I’ve done everything I could to warn you beforehand and you’ve just been a complete ass!”

He was out of breath by time he finished his rant, chest heaving and hands curled into fists at his sides. Scott was looking at him worriedly, Jackson looked like he was about to explode, and Derek was settled somewhere between amusement and anger.

Jackson, who at this point had actually tried to move forward but Derek barked out a ‘don’t’ and he stopped completely, was glaring at Stiles. He was shifting around on the balls of his feet restlessly, trying not to attack Stiles in front of his alpha.

Practice on Monday was going to hurt like a bitch.

“Were you ignoring him?” Derek’s voice was calm, which was a far call from the glowing red eyes, elongated teeth, and fur. He wasn’t fully transformed but it looked like he was struggling to maintain it. 

Stiles reached into his pocket, looking for his eyes, but Derek shot him a look that told him not to. He didn’t understand it, didn’t agree with it, but he pulled his hand back out and glanced back at Jackson.

“Yes. You told me not to act differently. If I would have started paying attention to him, that would have been different. And anyways, I didn’t think anything he’d want to say would be important. Either you’d tell me or I’d have to hear it from McCall.”

Before Stiles could reply, before he even had time to feel useless again, Derek cut in.

“If he has something to say, it’s because he’s trying to keep your sorry ass out of trouble. We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Stiles, so you should respect that. And him.”

The silence that followed that was definitely shocked. Jackson looked at Derek in incredulity; Scott was staring at Stiles with his eyes opened so wide he was probably going to get it stuck like that, and Stiles… Stiles had no idea what was going on. Derek hadn’t just defended him, he’d told Jackson to respect him. 

Holy shit.

\----------

Jackson had left in a hurry, mumbling an apology under his breath without being prompted. Scott had stood by the door, waiting for Stiles until Derek motioned for him to go on ahead. 

“Stiles drove me here?” Stiles slapped his hand to his forehead, feeling like an idiot for forgetting that.

“Shit, I did. I’m such an idiot.”

Derek sighed before marching over to Stiles and holding his hand out. Of course this caused Stiles to entertain the idea of just slipping his hand in the larger one, but that wasn’t what Derek was asking for.

“He doesn’t have his license yet. I’m not letting him drive my car without me in it!” The only response that got was Derek raising an eyebrow, shoving his hand further into Stiles’ space.

“Fine. But if he wrecks it, you’re paying my insurance.” Stiles fished the keys out but didn’t put them in Derek’s hand, instead tossed them over to Scott.

“And for god’s sake, don’t get pulled over Scott. My dad will kill us both and not even feel bad about it.”

With a nod, and a smile that was way too mischievous for his own good, Scott left the house, letting the door slam shut behind him.

After that, they were alone. At some point since the last time Stiles had been in the Hale house, work had already started on it. Some of the interior walls were torn down; most of the exterior had been replaced. He hadn’t heard of any construction going on in town, and the Hale house remodel would have been town gossip, but he didn’t think Derek could do it on his own.

“The place is looking good.” Derek nodded, moving to the other side of the couch so that he wasn’t sitting right next to Stiles. This only served to remind Stiles of the last time he was in the house, on this couch.

“So you wanted to talk about the… the thing. They bond thing.” He really, truly hoped that his rambling wasn’t infuriating Derek because there was no stopping it when he was nervous.

Not that he was nervous. Just trapped in a house and probably a car soon with the guy that he had a lot of feelings for after the last time of being stuck in a car with him had apparently caused the other man to go a little crazy and press his mouth to his neck.

Unless he wasn’t crazy and he did it because he actually had those feelings back. Really, Stiles was going to give himself an actual headache from trying to figure Derek out at this point.

“We know how it works now. Whenever one of us feels pain, we both have those episodes. It made me think, because I don’t know what injuries you had besides the head injury from Friday.”

That honestly puzzled Stiles.

“I haven’t had any other injuries. At least, not big ones? I thought they were you!” Derek avoided his eyes, which was something that was starting to become a habit with him. An annoying, confusing habit.

“A few of them were, but not all of them.”

Stiles thought quietly on it for a few minutes, knowing that Derek was now watching him but unable to force himself to look up. He couldn’t remember what was going through his head any of the times when the headaches started without it being brought on by his concussion, Derek breaking his own hand, and the keys just earlier.

“Maybe it’s emotional too? Not just physical pain, but emotional?” That made Stiles look up, staring at Derek as if he might have heard his own thought process.

“Maybe? Was either of us going through some emotional turmoil at those times?”

Again, Derek looked almost guilty as he avoided Stiles’ eyes. He wanted to call him out on it, on avoiding something or maybe downright lying about it, but Stiles wasn’t kidding when he had told Scott that he liked to ignore problems until they just went away.

It was the going away part that he was waiting for now.

“Listen, we have to be careful until we figure this thing out. I can’t black out with pain every time something happens. It’s dangerous for a wolf to be caught unaware. I’ve got to take care of my pack and I can’t do that if I’m indisposed.”

Stiles nodded, looking down at his hands as he did so.

“Is that you’re way of telling me to be careful?” The noise that Derek made in reply was either a laugh or a growl, but Stiles counted it as a win either way.

\----------

Stiles hadn’t been in Derek’s car since the day he’d picked him up from detention. It had only been earlier that week, but it felt like months. He tried to stay quiet, tried his best not to annoy Derek with his rambles and conspiracy theories. Instead he focused on the terrain that passed them by.

“Scott took the jeep to his house. You can pick it up from there.” Shifting a little in the passenger seat, Stiles nodded and glanced by Derek. He’d tensed up the moment they’d gotten into the car, his knuckles white where he gripped the steering wheel and his shoulders bowed up as if expecting a fight.

“You smell afraid.” Stiles gave a surprised laugh at that.

“One, that’s weird. Two, you’re driving like you’ve got a dead body in the back of the car or something. Oh god, please don’t tell me you actually have a dead body in the back of the car.” 

Derek rolled his eyes, loosening his grip on the steering wheel and letting his shoulders relax. He wasn’t completely at ease, but Stiles could see the difference. He did have to wonder how much of it was just for show though.

It wasn’t a long drive from the Hale estate to Scott’s place, an even shorter drive from Scott’s to his own house, but Stiles found himself wishing the first leg of the journey would be a little longer. He liked the exposure to the not-always-so-sourwolf. 

They were about ten minutes away from Scott’s when Stiles spotted the cop car in the distance. He cursed, glancing at Derek before unhooking his seat belt and bending down so that he was out of view. The front was too small for him to comfortably bend down so he had to stretch to the side, his face barely inches from the jean clad thigh that definitely belonged to Derek.

“What the hell are you doing?” Stiles glanced up at Derek but then thought better of it because wow what a view. 

“Cop car up ahead, left side.” Stiles could actually feel the car slowing down, although not noticeably from an outsider’s point of view he hoped.

“The chances of it being your dad are pretty slim.” 

Which was true.

“But the chances of it being an officer that will recognize me as the sheriff’s kid riding in the car with a once suspected murderer? Not the best conversation I’ll be forced to have with my dad.”

He heard a noise above him and, despite his earlier plan, turned his head to glance up at Derek again. He was staring straight ahead, once again looking as stony and unapproachable as he always had before. The thought made Stiles’ stomach clench.

What had he said or done to cause that?

After they passed the cop, Derek told Stiles in a gruff voice that he could sit up again. They didn’t have far until they got to Scott’s house and when they pulled up in front of it, Stiles nearly jumped out of Derek’s car.

“So, I guess text me if you come up with anything about our… the thing. I’ll do some research, although I haven’t found anything yet. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.” He moved to his jeep, checking the tires and smiling when he found the keys. 

They’d only done it few times before, but whenever Scott used Stiles’ car, he always left the keys on the driver’s side front tire. He twirled the keys around his fingers before turning to unlock the door, almost yelping when he saw Derek standing only a few inches away from his face.

“Is there something wrong?”

Stiles gestured wildly, almost succeeding in hitting Derek in the face. He wanted to be quiet, even though if Scott was home he’d be able to hear them anyways. Hopefully he was asleep.

“Nothing’s wrong. Just turn around and you’re in my personal space. Being kind of creepy.” 

Derek backed up but didn’t break eye contact, despite the fact that Stiles was trying to look away. He was. He really, really was.

“Just so you know? Even if I couldn’t hear your heart beat telling me you were lying, I would know it. You’re a horrible liar.”

Before Stiles could respond, Derek turned away and got into his car, speeding out of sight before Stiles could even think of a good response. 

He tried to think of how many times he’d lied to Derek and slumped against his jeep. He was starting to wonder if his secret was even a secret at all.

\-----------

When Stiles went to visit Lydia after school on Monday, he might have plucked flowers from his neighbor’s yard to bring to her. Might have. Probably did. It was for a good cause.

She was watching television when he walked in, muting the show but not turning it off as he approached.

“Are those for me?” After playfully shaking his head, Stiles smiled and offered the flowers to her. She accepted them, inhaling deeply before placing them gently on the table next to the bed.

“You seem to be in better spirits today.” Lydia shook her head, smiling up to Stiles as he moved to sit next to her. He stretched his legs as far as they could go, thrumming his fingers against the arm of the chair.

“I get out tomorrow. Allison has been bringing my homework so I’m not too far behind. I’m looking forward to being out of here.”

She did look better, healthier than she had in the days he’d visited her before. She wasn’t wearing any make up still, but the bags seemed mostly gone from her eyes. Her hair even seemed healthier, having a bit more bounce to it than it did before. 

They talked about different things for a while, with Stiles glossing over certain facts in his day to day life and Lydia ignoring the elephant in the room. The elephant being Lydia’s attack and the fact that Stiles spent a good chunk of his day with werewolves.

While they talked, it was almost as if Stiles could see Lydia deflate. Whatever had happened while she was in that coma, she was different. Even if her usual bitchy, holier than thou attitude was a pretense in the first place, it seemed almost like she couldn’t even bear to keep it going. 

“So you get discharged tomorrow. That’s gotta be awesome. You’ll get to go home, sleep in your own bed, get back to school.”

Lydia was looking down into her lap where her hands were clasped, alternating between squeezing and just resting there.

“Everyone is going to know what happened. I can’t even… most of my clothes won’t hide the scars.”

Stiles let his eyes drift down to Lydia’s arms and sides. She was wearing her housecoat over the hospital gown so he couldn’t see the bandages, but he remembered looking at them with Scott. 

“It’s going to be fine Lydia. Yea, everyone knows what happened. You were attacked while at a school dance, it’s sort of news worthy.”

He knew the instance that it was the wrong thing to say. He watched her face crumble, pushing the palms of her hands against her eyes as if to hold the tears back that way. Stiles swore to himself before getting out of the chair and sitting next to her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly to him.

It was a position that was subject to many of his fantasies before. She wasn’t always crying in them, but he did like the feeling of being the one to comfort her. He couldn’t help but take in the smell of her shampoo, something they must have allowed her to use only recently, or the way her spine curved while she cried into Stiles’ shoulder. 

He’d have killed to be in this position only a few months ago. Now…

Well, things were different now.

“I wish I could make things easier for you Lydia, I wish I knew what I could say or do to make it better. You know me; I’m not very good with words.”

Lydia pulled away, still sniffling as she looked up at him. He waited, wondering if she was going to snap or maybe start crying again. What she did instead took him by surprise.

One second he was watching Lydia’s face, and then next he was kissing it? Except he wasn’t kissing her, she was kissing him. Holy shit, she was kissing him. Lydia Martin was kissing him, him being Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.

He didn’t know what to do. Not only was it his first kiss in a long time, it was with the girl he fancied himself in love with for most if not all of his teen years. Except he wasn’t in love with her, not now and not before. 

He pulled away, only to watch Lydia’s face fall.

“I thought you… I thought you wanted me Stiles.”

Her voice, her expression, it damn near broke Stiles. There was so much going on, so much he barely understood. Not just the supernatural stuff, that he could understand not understanding. This was just your run of the mill, teenage weirdness.

“It’s not that, I do. I did. It has nothing to do with you Lydia, really.”

She wasn’t crying anymore and Stiles could see she was battling her hurt with her anger. He didn’t want to be the focus of her anger but he wasn’t entirely sure how not to be.

“Are you, you, really giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech?” She sat away from him, flipping her hair over her shoulder and glaring at Stiles.

Enough that Stiles got up and resumed his seat next to the bed instead of on it.

“It’s not like that, you have to believe me. I thought I was in love with you and maybe I was on some level, but those feelings aren’t real anymore. I…” I love someone else, that’s what he wanted to say, but the thought of loving Derek actually scared him more than he’d like to admit so he went a different route.

“I like someone else, a guy.”

The reaction it sparked out of Lydia would have been entertaining if it hadn’t been at his expense. Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened almost painfully, and then a slow flush crept along her cheeks.

“Have you always been gay?” Stiles spluttered, because while he didn’t mind the word, he wasn’t sure it applied to him. He said as much, pushing the issue that he still liked girls and still found them attractive. He was just sort of a one person kind of guy.

“So you’re what, bisexual?” This time Stiles shrugged because it seemed true enough.

“Have you always been bisexual?” She wasn’t being mean, it honestly seemed like she was just asking.

“I don’t really know. I mean, maybe? I didn’t really notice it until…”

There was a smile, a soft one he’d never seen on Lydia’s face before. 

“Until you met the guy you have feelings for. What’s his name?” Stiles shook his head, hoping that he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

“No, I uh, I’d rather not get into that if that’s okay with you?”

She looked at him for a moment, eyes searching his, before smiling beatifically. 

“Of course it’s okay with me. I understand the need for a little secrecy sometimes. I do want to know one thing though.”

Stiles closed his eyes, wondering if she was going to ask about the physical aspect or maybe if he thought such and such of their male peers were attractive or, god forbid, about fashion.

“Does he deserve you?”

Eyes snapping open, Stiles was floored. Almost literally. If he’d been standing, there was a good chance he would have fallen to the floor at that. But she was watching him, open and honestly, so Stiles thought about it. He thought about everything that Derek had been through, everything he portrayed and everything he really was, everything he made Stiles feel.

“Yes, he does.” 

He looked up at Lydia, half expecting mockery, but instead found understanding.

“Your secret is safe with me.” And somehow, he knew it was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, to all of the lovely people who hit kudos (can I just call it liked? It makes so much more sense that way) or commented or even just simply read the second chapter. I started chapter three this afternoon when I woke up after work and just powered through it until now. That's just over 10k in less than 24 hours. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'll be working on the next chapter tomorrow!

It was Wednesday when Lydia came back to school. Even though it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, most teachers gave sensitivity lectures on Tuesday, there were crowds of people trying to get a look at her. Like she was some sort of sideshow entertainment to their day. Personally Stiles was disgusted but even when he tried to get them to disperse, they seemed to multiply.

He wasn’t even really sure how she was going to act when they saw each other. He could see her either ignoring him, acting like nothing had happened, or maybe acknowledging him but no more than that.

Instead, she moved over to where Stiles was standing, shooting everyone a disdainful look when they tried to move closer.

“I hope you don’t mind the attention. I just wanted to be with someone who wasn’t going to treat me like I am some sort of victim.” Stiles nodded, ushering Lydia past the group of gawking teenagers surrounding the door she was trying to push her way into.

“No worries.” He was actually a little worried about how a certain werewolf would react with him being buddy-buddy with his ex. Even though he broke up with her and technically shouldn’t have any say, Stiles knew from the way he’d been watching her in the hospital when she had been unconscious that he still cared.

Not that Jackson really needed a reason to hate Stiles any more than he already did. Practice on Tuesday had been more painful than usual, even with Danny’s tips on how to accept a hit without getting hurt.

Obviously Danny had never been body checked by a werewolf. Which was probably a good thing.

Stiles had the first class with Lydia, although he usually sat further away so he could stare at her from a distance, but this time he sat beside her near the middle. The teacher barely gave them a glance, although the other students in there were staring so hard their eyes were going to bug out.

“Have you uh, talked to Jackson? Since you got out?” Lydia looked down at her notebook, pulling her sleeves over her arms just a little more than before. She was dressed pristinely as usual, but all of the skin she usually showed was covered.

“No. I was waiting for him to call or visit me, but he didn’t the entire time I was there.”

Stiles could feel his eyebrows doing that thing they did when he was confused, a cross between rising towards his hairline and pinching together.

He was a look he usually reserved for Scott.

“He did visit you though. He was there with me the night it happened and I know of at least one other time, when I visited you while you were still asleep.”

It sounded better than calling it what it really was.

“Yea, but he didn’t come when I was awake, did he? And everyone knew I was awake because everyone in the school came by. Even Scott stopped by!”

Her voice had risen a bit, but when she noticed the curious looks the people around them were giving her, she bent her head down again.

“It’s not like I care. We broke up.”

If he was anyone else, Stiles might have insisted that just because Jackson dumped her, it didn’t mean that the feelings weren’t still there. However Stiles was Stiles and he was mostly self sacrificing, so instead he offered her a smile and started shifting through his own book bag for his notebook and text book.

“Thank you. For visiting me in the hospital after I woke up. Besides my parents and Allison, you were the only one that came back more than once. You and Allison are the only ones that didn’t want to talk about the attack.”

In that moment, it struck Stiles as odd that Allison and Scott had visited. Maybe not Allison, but definitely Scott. And Scott hadn’t told Stiles that he was going to visit Lydia in the hospital. Then again, Stiles didn’t tell Scott that he visited Lydia almost every day after she woke up. 

Scott probably went to find out how much Lydia knew, and since Stiles had told her not to tell anyone what happened, she might not have even told Scott. She knew that he was one of the werewolves, although she didn’t know her ex was one now too. 

Stiles was going to have to call an impromptu meeting with the wolves to clear everything up, wasn’t he?

\----------

He sent to text to Derek between classes, not wanting to get caught with his phone and get another detention. 

_I need everyone to meet at your place. Today. Can you call a pack meeting?_

He wasn’t sure if Derek would like that he was demanding things, although it wasn’t a demand as much as a request. Their last conversation hadn’t exactly gone over very well.

He could still see the anger on Derek’s face as he called Stiles a liar. In more words, but that was the general idea of it.

His phone vibrated twice in his pocket as he sat down in his next class and he pulled it out, glancing at the clock to make sure he had time before checking it.

_You do it._

Resisting the urge to beat his head on the desk until everything went away, because that would cause his and Derek’s connection to flare up-- like herpes, but shit, now that was going to be stuck in his head-- so instead he sent a text to Jackson and Scott both.

_Go to Derek’s after practice. Need to talk. Important._

He didn’t receive a text back from either of them, but Stiles briefly wondered if they’d listen. Scott would, might just be irritated that it cut into his time with Allison. Jackson on the other hand?

Except that Derek had made it clear that Stiles was helping them and if he wanted their attention, he should get it. Whether or not Jackson actually made an effort with it, that was a different story.

He spent the entire class twirling his pencil around, not paying attention to the notes the teacher was writing on the whiteboard. Whatever he missed in class he could usually find somewhere online. 

Derek was kind of giving him mixed signals. Sometimes it felt like he cared, sometimes it felt like he couldn’t care less. Then there was the lips and the neck thing and that was just not something guys do to other guys without meaning it a certain way, right? But then he got in Stiles’ face like he had that night and…

“Mr. Stilinski? The answer?”

Stiles’ attention snapped back to the present and he looked at the board, skimmed the page he was looking at in his book (definitely not the right page) and briefly looked around the class. One of his classmates held up her fingers, flicking them up and down a couple of times.

“Thirty six. Y equals thirty six.” 

The teacher looked at him suspiciously for a second before going back to the board to continue the lesson. Stiles shot the girl a grateful smile before actually forcing himself to pay attention. He could stress over his Big Gay Feelings For Derek, capital letters and all, later. 

\-----------

During practice, Jackson went to painstaking lengths to run into Stiles as hard as he could whenever he could. He couldn’t swear to it, but he was sure he’d seen a flash of amber at one point. He was out of control. And Scott was forced to skip practice to make up a test that he’d failed completely, so he wasn’t there to help.

And Coach seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Jackson was running over Stiles like a speed bump even though they were supposedly on the same team during this scrimmage.

The pain of the impacts were starting to war with the pain from the connection. He wasn’t sure when it had started, because his entire body was already sore, but he knew the feeling. His stomach was turning and his head was throbbing and every now and then his eyesight would go fuzzy. 

Derek was probably having a fit, thinking Stiles was being beaten up or in a car accident or something. If he cared. Which Stiles had no solid proof to confirm or deny. If he didn’t care about Stiles being in pain, he’d definitely care about the fact that Stiles being in pain caused himself pain.

And he had said it hurt worse for him when it was Stiles in pain than it did when it was himself.

He tried to focus on Derek, but every time he did that he was called back onto the field to play crash dummy for Jackson. Every time he found his center and was able to relax the pain, it came shooting back.

“Jackson, calm down man.” All heads whipped around to where Danny was standing, his mask off and staring at Jackson as if he’d never seen him. Jackson threw his helmet off and started stalking towards Danny.

“What did you just say?”

Danny’s eyes widened and Stiles knew something was happening. He shuffled forward, dropping his stick and throwing off his helmet and placing himself between the two of them.

“I said calm down. You’re being pointlessly rough with someone who is your teammate and on your side during this scrimmage.” Stiles glanced up at Jackson’s face, half expecting to see his eyes flashing, but they weren’t. He had some level of control, Stiles would give him that.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t realize this was your team, Jepson.” The use of Danny’s last name, which Stiles wasn’t even sure he knew, startled him. 

Jackson and Danny had been friends forever, but Stiles had never heard or heard of Jackson calling Danny anything but Danny. Maybe Daniel, when he was joking being angry, but never his last name.

“Maybe not, but he is my teammate. And yours too. You’re just being a prick.”

His eyes flashed so quickly that Stiles was barely sure he saw it, but a glance at Danny said that he hadn’t noticed either. He was struggling to get his gloves and pads off.

“Where are you going? Practice isn’t over!” Jackson was bellowing now, borderline growling at Danny. The rest of the team was standing just far enough away not to be in the line of fire but just close enough to hear every word. And Coach… well, who knows where that man disappeared to whenever he was actually needed.

“It is for me. I’m not playing on a team when one of the co-captains acts like a dick all the time. Break in the new goalie, because I’m gone. I’ll come back when you get your head out of your ass.”

Danny stalked off, his equipment under his arm. Stiles looked at him, then to Jackson, before shaking his head.

“You fucked up, big time.” 

Not only had he alienated his friend, but he’d alienated his friend that suspected him of taking drugs. Or worse. Stiles grabbed his dropped gear and took off for Danny’s retreating form, leaving an angry Jackson in his wake.

When he caught up to Danny, they had almost reached the locker room. He looked surprised to see Stiles coming up behind him, but he smiled a little when he did.

“You’re not too banged up, are you?” Stiles shook his head, wincing as he did. Danny saw the wince and sighed, pushing him into the locker room and towards the showers.

“Take a hot shower; it’ll relax your muscles. If you’re still having a problem, I can try to rub it out.” Stiles nodded, having heard from many of their team members just how good Danny was at massaging tension and knots out of their shoulders and backs and legs.

Of course Stiles should have seen how this was going to end. His life was just that kind of cliché.

\-----------

After his shower, although feeling better and able to move a bit more, he still found himself asking Danny to rub his left shoulder. It was tense and he could barely move it to wash his hair when he’d been showering. Danny had changed but all Stiles did was pull on his boxers and a pair of sweatpants that he was surprised was clean.

“So is it going to hurt or just-- OW! FUCK! THAT HURTS!”

Danny laughed behind him, easing up the pressure of his thumbs until Stiles was used to it. When he pressed in again, Stiles groaned and let his head fall. Chin pressed against his chest, he found himself almost drooling.

“You should do this professional. You have magic hands.” Danny laughed again, digging his fingers in a little harder, but not enough that it hurt.

“I’m actually thinking about it.” Stiles found that interesting and turned his head to face his masseuse. Which was not a word Stiles ever thought he could use, but apparently he could.

“Really? I always though you’d go for sports or something. Maybe business.” Danny was the head of their school’s Future Business Leaders of America club.

“I don’t want to play lacrosse for the rest of my life. In high school it’s fine, maybe even in college, but I want a job that doesn’t have a shelf life. I might still go for business, just get my massage therapy license too.”

Stiles tilted his head back down and grinned.

“Maybe you can open a massage business. Kill to birds with one stone.” He felt Danny shrug as he shifted his hands a little lower to Stiles’ shoulder blade.

“This might twinge a bit, but I promise it’ll feel better when I’m done. Lean forward a bit. There, that’s far enough. This doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it?” ‘This’ was the fact that when Stiles leaned forward, basically bending himself in half, Danny scooted so that his legs were touching Stiles’ back.

“Nah, it’s fine. I trust you.” 

Making a noise in the back of his throat, Danny pressed his fingers hard into the area beside Stiles’ left shoulder blade. The word twinge didn’t cover the pain that erupted, but it took Stiles a second to realize it wasn’t coming from his shoulder. His head was pounding and he felt a little nauseous and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes from the pressure of it.

His head shot up, on instinct, and he found himself staring at Derek. Danny apparently hadn’t noticed their audience, who was staring at Stiles with barely concealed anger.

“How does that feel? Try rolling your shoulder a bit.” Derek’s eyes shot up to where Danny was standing and then back down to meet Stiles’ eyes. 

“Stiles? Is everything okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Stiles shook his head, sitting up and gasping because god did his shoulder feel better, but he also forgot that Danny was basically on top of him so he bumped into Danny.

He could hear Derek’s growl and he shot to his feet, off the bench and about four feet away. His abrupt movement caused Danny to look around and spot Derek. 

This was awkward. Awkward didn’t even cover it. Stiles looked around for his shirt but he remembered Danny folding it for him to sit on so it was over by where Danny was standing. He must have noticed that Stiles was looking for it, arms crossed uncomfortably over his chest, because he grabbed it and handed it to Stiles, barely letting his eyes leave Derek’s form.

“You know, an older guy in the locker room with a bunch of under age teens? Near the showers no less? You’re just looking to get arrested.”

Stiles couldn’t help his verbal diarrhea at this point. Derek glared at Stiles, which he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved, before looking back at Danny.

“Jackson wants to talk to you. In the hall.”

Danny looked between Stiles and Derek a few times before shaking his head.

“No way. He can either come in here or you can leave or Stiles is coming with me. Sorry, not leaving a friend alone in the room with you. No offense Stiles.” Stiles shrugged because yea, he was kind of not the best and handling himself. And especially not against a werewolf.

Not that Danny knew that Derek was a werewolf.

Speaking of werewolves…

“It’s okay Danny. You’re within screaming distance. My virtue is safe.” Danny gave Stiles a look that made him rethink what he just said. He was almost afraid to see what Derek’s face looked like.

He might have just painted a picture that Derek was the one that caused Stiles to have his gay conundrum. He really should have rethought telling Danny about what happened in the car. 

“Okay. Let me know when you’re heading out, okay?” 

Stiles was actually touched by how much Danny cared and to what lengths he was willing to go for him. He hated to admit it, but he honestly couldn’t see Scott doing all of this. Not even after he got turned.

“Will do.”

He waited until Danny left until looking at Derek, shying away when he met Derek’s red glowing eyes. Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

Derek cocked his head, listening to either Stiles’ jump in heart rate or whatever was going on outside of the locker room.

“I’ve got to grab my stuff and then I’ll be ready to go. I can meet you guys at your house. Still have important things to say. But they can wait until we’re at your house. Are you going to say something or just sit there and glare? And lightly growl. You do know that I can hear you, don’t you?”

Derek was still glaring, still lightly growling, but his eyes blinked back into focus and back to their usual hazel.

“You and I are going to have a talk after the others leave.”

Derek turned around and left, leaving Stiles to slump against the lockers. Those talks never ended well for Stiles, one way or another.

\-----------

As Stiles pulled up in front of Derek’s house, his phone started to vibrate wildly in his pocket. It signaled a phone call so he pulled it out and flinched when he saw his dad’s work number. That was never a good sign.

“Hey dad. What’s up?” His dad sighed.

“I’ve been calling you for twenty minutes Stiles, where the hell are you?” Stiles looked at the house in front of him and shook his head.

“I’m with Scott dad, doing homework. Like a good, responsible teenager.”

He was probably laying it on a little thick, but… His dad sighed again, his voice taking on the authoritative tone he used when he was in Sheriff mode. It was a little creepy that his dad seemed to have split personalities. Maybe that’s just how he dealt with the stress of the job. That made sense. A lot more sense than his dad having split personalities at least. 

He realized he’d missed about half of what his dad was saying so he tuned in for the last part.

“--so make sure you’re not in the woods. Capiche?” Casting a glance around the woods that surrounded the Hale estate, Stiles crossed his fingers and forced a smile into his voice.

“Got it. I’ll be home in a little bit.”

He hung up before his dad could say anything else. He hated, hated lying to his dad, but it was a necessity for now.

Walking into the house, Stiles could tell something was different. Not just the décor, although it did look like Derek had done a little to spruce up the place, but the atmosphere. He could see Scott from the doorway, but when he moved further in, he was surprised to see not only Derek and Jackson, but Allison, Danny and Lydia too.

Well. Shit.

“Heeeey everyone.” Danny looked either angry or confused, probably some sort of mixture of both. Lydia looked a little less confused, but she did look worried. Scott was standing closest to Allison, who was standing just shy of Lydia. Jackson was moping in the corner, staring at the group like he had no idea what to do.

And Derek looked like he was a second from losing control and hanging all of their heads on his mantle piece.

“We’re here because it seems like there’s a little less secrecy and a little too much talking going on.”

That felt like a cheap shot aimed at Stiles for telling Lydia, but honestly if anyone deserved to know it was her. She seemed to realize that too because she crossed her arms and glared at Derek. Memo to Stiles, remind Lydia that she’s awesome.

“What is this, some sort of cult?” Danny shot Stiles an accusing glare which, yeah, he might deserve that. He’s been playing at ignorant all this time when he really actually did know what was going on with Jackson.

“No. It’s not a cult. Not a cult at all. It’s a group. Study group, sort of. Kind of. Don’t give me that look.”

Scott rolled his eyes at Stiles which was kind of insulting, but Derek was the one that took over from there.

“You’re here because you are either on the verge of finding out something or already have. I’m here to make sure you keep this information to yourselves.”

Lydia, already knowing what was going on, nodded. Danny, on the other hand, looked increasingly freaked out.

“What the hell is going on? Is this about Jackson doing drugs? Stiles?” He couldn’t help it. Danny had called him his friend in the locker room and had offered to stay with him so that he wouldn’t be left alone with Derek, who looked particularly pissed. He couldn’t help but overstepping Derek’s mysterious rant to address Danny’s fear.

“It’s not drugs Danny. I’m sorry I lied to you about all of this. If Jackson hadn’t been such a dumbass, this never would have happened. But that’s like saying if the Pope hadn’t been Catholic, so the point is moot anyways. But it did happen and you’re here now and the truth is Scott and Jackson and Derek here are werewolves.”

There was a moment of silence while everyone watched Danny and Lydia’s faces for any change. Lydia already knew it, although Stiles had been surprised by the speed with which she’d accepted it, so she didn’t look much different. Danny on the other hand looked livid.

“Whatever it is, you should have trusted me enough. Instead you make up some bullshit story about werewolves? I’ve been helping you man, this is how you repay me?”

Standing up, Danny started to push past everyone. Before Stiles could stop him, Jackson had stepped forward and grabbed his arm. Jackson still couldn’t control his shifts, so Derek calmly told him to back down, addressing Scott next.

“Scott, show him.” Allison stood up and moved to stand near Scott. He’d told Stiles that she kept him anchored when he shifted now, even though Derek as his alpha wasn’t telling him to go kill his friends. 

Scott shifted, slow enough that Danny could watch it happen. Hair sprouting down his face, claws extending from his fingers, canines protruding from his mouth, face elongating, eyes glowing amber. They weren’t really scary looking until they were angry.

Danny stepped backwards until he fell against the couch again. Lydia’s face was pale and her hands were shaking. She looked up at Stiles and he realized what was going on.

“Shit, Scott, shift back. Now!” Startled, Scott shifted back to human, hand reaching out to grab Allison’s as they looked at Stiles in concern. He knelt beside Lydia’s side, covering her hand with his own.

“It’s okay Lydia. It’s just Scott; he’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Jackson moved forward, like he was going to step in and help, but he stopped just short of where they were. Stiles glared up at him, rolling his eyes when Jackson moved back to his corner. Danny was watching Lydia with undisguised confusion until he seemed to put two and two together.

“The night of the dance. You were attacked by a werewolf?” He looked around the group, since those were the ones that Stiles had mentioned and not what happened before, as if expecting one of them to cop to having attacked Lydia.

“Maybe we should start from the beginning?” Allison’s suggestion made the most sense, so they sat down and started to tell their tale.

It didn’t escape Stiles’ notice that Derek wasn’t participating in the conversation, even though his tale was different than everyone else’s. Instead he was staring at where Stiles’ hand covered Lydia’s, with her smaller hand grasping his in a grip he couldn’t shake.

Derek stared at their joined hands the entire time they were telling the story.

\----------

Lydia and Scott rode home with Allison, although Lydia had tried to get Stiles to take her home. He promised he’d call her when he got home; he just had some things he needed to take care of first. Danny rode out with Jackson, which Stiles assumed was going to be an awkward car ride.

Once the cars were out of the driveway, leaving only Derek and Stiles’ vehicles, Stiles seemed to remember that Derek was pissed at him. And a werewolf. And that they were alone in the house together. Deep in the woods.

Shit.

When he turned around, still on the porch, he was forced to stop moving because Derek was standing only about a foot away, eyes glowing red and fur starting to sprout. He could usually balance himself, shift just enough that he resembled his beta self, but Stiles knew that sometimes he would shift fully into the alpha. He was big and burly as the alpha, resembling Peter a little but different all the same.

And while usually Stiles wasn’t afraid of Derek anymore, he found his heartbeat rising and his palms starting to sweat.

“Why was Jackson so pissed at you today?” Stiles blinked because Derek’s voice was low and gravelly and, well, attractive in a way that Stiles was definitely not going to think about.

“Today? As opposed to every day? I breathed.”

This time it was Derek’s turn to blink, head tilted to the side a bit.

“You breathed. He was actively trying to break you in half on that field because you breathed?”

Stiles shrugged, slowly stepping away from Derek and towards the rail of the porch. He’d had the conversation with both Derek and Scott that if they changed, he was to not run away from them. It caused them to want to chase. Which explained Scott trying to kill him in the locker room that day during practice. 

“Jackson doesn’t need a reason to hate me, okay? He just does. He really hates me and sometimes he likes to take that hate out on me in practice. Totally normal.”

Derek moved closer, voiding Stiles’ attempt to put space between them. He was also glaring at Stiles, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Stop lying to me Stiles.”

Which, yes, he was definitely lying. 

“He was probably pissed because Lydia was spending time with me. I’ve been there for her and he hasn’t so she wants to hang out with me and he’s mad or jealous or something.”

He never thought there would be a day where he could say that Jackson Whittemore was possibly jealous of him. 

“He singled you out because you were hanging out with Lydia?” The defeatism in Derek’s voice matched Peter’s when he found out that Scott’s username and password was Allison. Like he was just remembering that his pack was made up of teenagers.

“I know, that’s what I said. He’s angry because she’s hanging out with me, what if he found out about the kiss? I’d be puppy chow.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Derek surged forward, one hand gripping hard into his bicep, nails barely scratching against his arm.

“What kiss?” Stiles gulped, visibly and audibly by the fact that Derek’s eyes dropped to his throat, before answering.

“She uh, kissed me? Yeah, she kissed me. On the hospital bed. Or, well, she kissed me on the mouth, but we were on the hospital bed. It was a moment of weakness. For her, not me.”

Derek was still barely a foot away from him, fingers digging into his arm but nails still not puncturing him. Which Stiles was grateful for.

“If you finally got what you wanted, why were you letting Danny climb on top of you in the locker room?” 

Stiles thought back to what it must have looked like from an outsider’s point of view. That plus the first part of Derek’s question is what sparked his response.

“Nothing is going on between me and Lydia and nothing is going on between me and Danny. Danny was massaging my shoulder because he’s really good at it and I was in pain. Lydia kissed me but she didn’t mean it. She wants something that I can’t give to her.”

Derek’s fingers tightened, just enough to cause Stiles to wince.

“And what’s that?”

“Myself.” Derek leaned forward, pressing further into Stiles’ space. There was still about a foot of space between their faces, but Derek’s lower body was angled further away. Thankfully, because any closer and Derek might’ve been able to feel the reaction that his proximity was causing.

“And why can’t you give that to her?”

Now was sort of the moment of truth. He could tell Derek that he had a large amount of Big Gay Feelings for him, capital letters and all. Or he could play it off. 

He settled for something in the middle.

“Because I want to give it to someone else.” 

Derek leaned forward, his mouth barely inches away from Stiles’. He wanted to lean forward, wanted to take what he was starting to become certain he was allowed, but he waited. He breathed in and held it, waiting.

“Who do you want to give it to?” Stiles found himself swaying forward. This was it. He was going to take what he deserved, dammit, once and for all.

As he moved forward an inch more, lips so close to touching Derek’s, mouth opened to say ‘You’ or to just take, there was a shrill noise coming from his pocket.

He shot backwards, almost barreling over the rail of the porch if Derek’s hand hadn’t stopped him. His heart was racing a mile a minute but he couldn’t force himself to look at Derek. The moment of truth had passed. 

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Stiles winced again when he saw it was his dad. He slowly shifted from being trapped between Derek and the rail, moving towards the stairs to answer the phone.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” He could feel Derek moving behind him, not coming any closer to Stiles than he had to. He was quite obviously eavesdropping on the phone call so Stiles not-so-subtly turned it so that it would be easier.

He didn’t even question why he did that.

“Stiles, get your ass to this house right now. I just got off the phone with Scott’s mom and you and he were not studying. If you do not get home in the next ten minutes, I’m shipping you off to boot camp. Now!”

This time it was the Sheriff who hung up, leaving Stiles gaping like a fish. Shit. Wow he was in deep shit.

“I’ve got to go. Shit, I’m so screwed right now. Okay. I’ll um. Yeah. Bye.”

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to finish the conversation with Derek, wanted to see if the conversation could lead to anything else. He wanted nothing more than to be leaning against the rail with Derek’s mouth barely inches away from his own again.

Instead he jumped down the steps and threw himself into his jeep, peeling out of the driveway and spitting gravel behind him as he sped towards the road. His mind was a mess as he forced the jeep faster.

His dad was going to absolutely murder him for lying, for being late. Hopefully he wouldn’t find out he was in the woods, like he’d said he wouldn’t be. Fuck.

Fuck. He almost kissed Derek Hale.

\-----------

Everything happened really quickly. He was about ten minutes away from Derek’s and about ten minutes away from his own house when it happened. He hadn’t even been on his phone, which was something his dad had drilled into his head.

Not that he listened, but the fact remained.

The car virtually came out of nowhere, barreling full speed into the passenger side door. The momentum of both cars, Stiles’ small jeep and whatever kind of hummer the other person was driving, shot the jeep across the road and down a slight hill.

Because where there are car accidents, there are always hills.

The next thing Stiles actually remembered was the car being on its side, glass surrounding his face where he was pressed against the door. The car was resting on the driver’s side; he could see the overhang of trees out of the passenger window that was pointing up. 

Accompanying the pain from the car accident came the now familiar pain of the connection. Everything hurt, he was pretty sure blood was dripping in his eyes, he couldn’t move his legs. Everything felt hollowed and then felt with lead. His head was throbbing, from the connection and the impact. He couldn’t even turn his head to get sick because there would be a high chance of him choking on it.

Using what strength he could muster, Stiles stuck his hand into his pocket, groaning at the pressure as he shifted his body. His phone was still tucked in his pocket, hopefully in working condition.

Without looking, he hit the call button. He couldn’t raise his arm high enough to put it on his ear, and he didn’t know where the speaker button was without looking, so he just started to babble.

“Dad? Dad, it’s me. I’ve been in an accident. I’m off West Forest Road. I’m pinned. Dad, please, I’m bleeding.”

He kept repeating the information, because he wasn’t sure if his dad could hear him or if the call even went through or if he was talking to a voicemail. He hung up and called again, still babbling the same information, but his head was throbbing and his eyes were burning from the blood, so he closed his eyes, still trying to chant the information, until he drifted off.

He vaguely remembered hearing someone call his name, vaguely remembered someone opening the passenger side door, and vaguely remembered a pair of hands checking the parts of him they could reach. Then there was a lot of grunting, cursing, yelling, and the sound of metal scraping on metal and glass shattering, before those hands were on him again as he was being pulled out of the windshield.

He couldn’t let the person know he was okay, but he felt the fingers press against his neck and then his wrist and then heard the person thank god, so he knew they were aware he was at least alive. He tried to let them know, but he was tired and dizzy and everything hurt.

Instead, he just left his eyes closed and let the person’s calming voice lull him to sleep.

\------------

Waking up was a lot harder than going to sleep had been. Stiles didn’t even remember going to sleep. He remembered almost kissing Derek, his dad being pissed, driving home, the huge car coming out of nowhere and then--

The constant beeps that had been beside him sped up as his heart rate did. He tried to sit up but a nurse was there, pushing him down. He was wearing a hospital gown, hospital ID bracelet on his wrist and an IV coming out of his arm. His clothes weren’t in the room, neither was his dad. The nurse was talking but he couldn’t make out the words.

“My dad? Where’s my dad?”

She smiled at him, told him to rest, adjusted something on his IV and left the room. He tried to stay awake, tried to wait for his dad, but he felt his eyes drift shut.

\-------------

The next time he woke up, he woke up screaming with pain. A doctor was in the room, so he quickly upped Stiles’ dose for pain meds and tired to talk to him, but Stiles couldn’t hear it. He didn’t want to be there, he wanted his dad, and he wanted to go home.

He kept asking for his dad, the doctor telling him he couldn’t come in yet, but finally relented when Stiles threatened to get out of the bed and find him himself.

Not too long after the doctor left, his dad’s familiar face appeared above him.

“Stiles.” Stiles felt the weight lift off of his shoulders. He’d been more worried about his dad than he had himself. When he tried to sit up, he noticed that his left arm was broken, probably from being pressed between himself and the door. 

With his dad’s help, they adjusted his bed and he was able to see his legs, neither broken thankfully. 

“What happened?” His dad sat in the chair provided beside the bed, head dropping to rest on the bed next to Stiles’ good hand. His eyes had been red, his hair looked like he’d been running his hands through it a lot, his clothes clearly slept in. It made Stiles wonder what day it was.

“You were driving home and got t-boned. Whoever hit you drove off after it happened. God son, when I got the call that you’d been in an accident, I came straight over. They wouldn’t let me see you. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for about twelve hours, sedated for about six beyond that. This is the first time you’ve been lucid since you got here.”

Which meant it was Thursday sometime. Shit, he’d lost an almost full day.

“Wait, what do you mean when you got the call? I called you.” His dad shook his head, looking confused.

“Son, when I got the call, you were already at the hospital.”

Stiles started to panic because he very clearly remembered calling his dad, very clearly remembered someone pulling him out of the jeep. But then again, his dad would have known better than to do that.

“I called… someone pulled me out of the jeep dad. They kept calling my name and then they pulled me out and made sure I was alive. I thought it was you.”

His dad shook his head again, this time no longer looking confused. He placed his hand over Stiles’ and squeezed.

“He said he wasn’t sure if you’d remember it. That was Derek Hale. Said he’d been heading into town and saw what looked like skid marks. He’s the one that found you. He put you in his car and drove you here. That boy… man… saved your life.”

Stiles’ heart started to thud in his chest, which was echoed by the machine still hooked up to him.

“You okay? Stiles, I know there was all that stuff about him being a murderer, but he wasn’t. His name was cleared.” Stiles shook his head this time, leaning against the pillow and closing his eyes.

“I know that dad. Him and I… we’re friends. Sort of. We talk. Hang out sometimes.”

It was the best time to tell him, when he could use his injuries to avoid punishment.

“Hang out? You mean at his house? Alone?” Stiles winced, half in pain and half from the questioning.

“No. I mean, yes, but not always? Sometimes Scott is with me.”

Pressing his fingers into his temples, Stiles’ dad sighed and shook his head. 

“We’ll discuss this later. In the mean time, rest.”

They lowered his bed again so that Stiles could get comfortable. His dad turned at the door and walked back him, bending down to wrap his son in a tight hug.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again Stiles. I mean it.”

Stiles returned the hug as much as he could, feeling like his lungs had been set on fire because he never wanted to scare his dad. Never meant for something like that to happen.

\-------------

The next time that Stiles woke up, it was to an array of faces peering down at him.

“AH!” Everyone jumped back and a nurse poked her head in the door, frowning and telling the group that if they were going to agitate the patient, they would have to leave. After Stiles reassured her that it was fine, he’d just been startled, she left again.

“You okay man?” Stiles raised the back of his bed again so that he was sitting up. Allison, Scott, Jackson, Danny, and Lydia were all standing around his bed. 

He noticed one particular face missing, but he refused to dwell on that. Jackson was even here. Jackson was here but Derek wasn’t. That was just great.

“I’m fine. Little bumped and bruised, but I’m good. Not to mention the broken arm.”

“You’re fine? Dude, we saw your car. How did you not get a broken neck?” Stiles shrugged, wincing a bit as he did so. 

Lydia propped herself at the foot of his bed while Danny sat in the chair provided. Jackson was further away near the door while Scott and Allison stood on the other side from where Danny was sitting.

“I don’t know, just lucky I guess. Shit. How bad is the jeep?” Their faces all kind of scrunched up, as if trying to find the best way to word it.

“Scrap metal.” Jackson’s voice didn’t sound smug, which was a shocker. Stiles slumped against his pillow and groaned.

“I loved that car.”

There was a beat before everyone started laughing. Scott thumped Stiles on his non-injured arm, smiling as he did so. He was surprised by how concerned Scott looked, even knowing that Stiles was okay.

They spent the rest of the visit talking about school, people commenting on Stiles’ accident and theories as to who ran him off the road.

“I don’t think it was on purpose, but it was weird. There aren’t any side roads on that part of West Forest, right? So where the hell did that car come from?” 

Danny leaned forward, pitching his voice lower. Allison had joined Lydia on the bed at some point so they were close enough to hear and the other two were werewolves so they didn’t need to lean in to listen.

“I overheard one of the officers tell your dad that there were tire tracks coming out of the woods opposite the side your car was found on. Like they were sitting there and waiting. They are doing everything they can to identify whoever it was.”

Stiles nodded, rubbing his hand over his forehead a few times before sitting up and looking between Danny and Lydia.

“You two seem to have settled into the group fairly easily.” Danny sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from the group. Lydia, however, spoke up quickly.

“Derek made sure we understood that this was a secret that would hurt a lot of people if we told anyone. We know about Allison’s family and that they only hunt the werewolves that hurt humans. So we’re caught up to speed.”

He hadn’t exactly expected Derek to say they were welcome at his house whenever, but he expected more from it. Packs were made up of human and werewolf members. They were basically a pack now; he just needed Derek to see that.

While Lydia and the others talked about everything, Stiles kept a close eye on Danny. He added his own tidbits every now and then but for the most part kept quiet. When the group got up to leave, Stiles asked Danny to stay behind for a second. 

Once the door was shut, Stiles turned to face Danny fully.

“I know it’s a lot to handle, and I know that I lied to you, but if you’re having issues with it…”

Stiles wasn’t sure what they could do if Danny was having issues. He didn’t think Danny would do anything that would harm them, but you never knew in these cases.

“It’s nothing like that. I was just thinking about something. It’s Derek, isn’t it? The guy you have feelings for?”

Stiles pulled his legs under him, tapping his good hand against his leg in a random beat.

“Yeah.” Danny shook his head, looking down at his hands before looking back up to Stiles.

“Listen, I’m not going to tell you who you can or cannot have feelings for, but is this the best idea? I mean, he’s werewolf.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with Scott and Allison.” Danny stood up, pacing beside the bed a little bit.

“He’s not just a werewolf though, he’s the werewolf. What’d Scott call him, the alpha? I mean, he’s the main guy right? I just want you to be okay man, that’s all. I’m not sure you can trust him. You’re my friend and I look out for my friends.”

Hearing it like that, Stiles couldn’t help but smile. A few months ago, he thought Danny might despise him. Now they were friends.

“It’s not like that. I mean, he’s not going to hurt me.” This time Danny raised an eyebrow and smirked at Stiles.

“Does he know?” 

Stiles thought back to what happened on the porch before he’d left Derek’s house, how he’d been literally inches from what he wanted most, how he’d been seconds from claiming it.

“Honestly dude, I have no freaking idea.”

\--------------

His next visitor came only a few hours before he was to be discharged. This time Stiles didn’t wake up with them in the room. Instead he was already awake when the nurse knocked on his door, opening it just enough to pop her head in.

“Hi dear. Just wanted to see if you were up for guests?” Stiles nodded and she stepped back, letting whoever it was behind her step in. Out of all of the people Stiles was expecting, it was Derek that stepped in.

He left the door open but Stiles glanced at it, more like glared, until Derek moved back to the door and made a show of shutting it. Then he moved to where the chair was but didn’t sit down. 

He looked Stiles over from head to toe, checking for injuries it looked like, before zeroing in on the cast. The group from before had signed it, everyone but Jackson, a couple of the kids from school that came to visit, plus a few of the nurses and even one of the doctors. 

“You can sign it too. You know, ‘sourwolf was here’ or something creative like that.” Derek still didn’t sit down, still didn’t move forward, still didn’t do anything but stand there and stare.

“My dad said you pulled me out of the car and drove me here. Considering the number of stitches they put in my head, I’m pretty sure I might have bled on your seats. Sorry about that.”

That made Derek look up, his eyes distant as if he didn’t know what he was looking at.

“Do I need to pay for cleaning? Is that what this is about?” Derek moved around the chair until he was standing right next to the bed. 

Stiles’ heart rate picked up and the monitor started to beep. They both glanced up at it, Stiles in embarrassment and Derek in understanding. Although what he understood, Stiles could only guess.

“Are you going to say anything?” Half of it was nerves, the other half anticipation. The last time he’d been alone with Derek…

His monitor started beeping again and a nurse came in, looking frantically at Stiles and Derek before sighing. As she turned off whatever was beeping, she shot the two of them a knowing (and down right mischievous) look before shutting the door behind her.

“I used to think your heartbeat sped up because you were afraid of me.” Stiles blinked up at Derek because it was the first time he’d spoken since he stepped in the room but it wasn’t anything Stiles had been expecting.

“Well, yeah, that makes sense.” Derek moved just a bit more, the front of his thighs pressing against the bed. It was taking all of Stiles’ self control not to reach out, to just pull the guy down on top of him.

Mostly because he was pretty bruised up and that would probably hurt. A lot.

“But now I think there might be more to it.”

Stiles swallowed, visibly and audibly once again because Derek’s eyes zeroed in on his neck as it happened. It left his mouth feeling dry but he couldn’t help but run his tongue over his lips, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Oh?”

Derek leaned down, one hand on the raised top of Stiles’ bed and the other braced on the bed next to Stiles’ good hand.

“When did your heartbeat stop quickening because of fear and start quickening because of arousal Stiles?”

Stiles felt something turn to mush in his head because yes, that was exactly true. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to word it. He couldn’t get a complete read off of Derek, wasn’t sure if he was encouraging it or was just getting ready to reject him, but Stiles couldn’t even care right now. All he wanted was to lean forward and let Derek take whatever it was he wanted at this point.

“I--” Before Stiles could get the words out, the door opened and Stiles was faced with one of the most awkward positions he’d ever been found in.

Derek leaning over him, Stiles obviously leaning forward, their mouths definitely only a few inches from being attached, and Sheriff Stilinski standing in the doorway with a bag of Stiles’ clothes.

For his credit, Stiles’ dad didn’t look angry. He looked shocked. Derek backed away slowly, probably realizing that jerking away from Stiles would only look worse. 

“Sheriff Stilinski.” Derek’s voice was steady, but even when he lost control he still seemed calm, so Stiles wasn’t able to figure it out.

“Mr. Hale. Stiles. Is this what you meant when you said you two were sort of friends? You know what, no. Not right now. Mr. Hale, if you’ll excuse us, I have to get my son discharged and home, where he won’t be allowed any visitors or his computer until further notice. As for you? Drive safely.”

Derek nodded, not even glancing at Stiles as he left the room. Stiles pulled the monitor off so that the machine would read his rapid heartbeat with his dad in the room.

“Seriously dad, that’s how you treat the guy that saved your son’s life?”

The Sheriff turned to face Stiles, because he was wearing his professional face so he wasn’t dad at the moment.

“That’s how I treat the twenty-something year old man in my underage son’s hospital room who looked like he wanted nothing more than to eat you. We’ll be discussing what ‘sort of’ means when we get home. For now, put on your clothes.”

He tossed the bag on the bed and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Stiles hoped he wasn’t going to hunt down Derek to talk to him.

Guess he wasn’t wearing his professional face. He was just wearing his protective face.

\-----------

“Do you want something to eat? I can whip something up real quick. Something greasy and unhealthy?”

Stiles shook his head, using his good arm to hoist himself up the stairs.

“Nah, I think I’m just gonna go to bed. I’m beat.” He was halfway up the stairs before his dad’s voice called him back.

“I don’t think so young man. We have something to talk about.” He sighed, turning around and trotting back down the stairs. He made his way to the dining room table, flopping into the chair and rubbing his eyes.

“Okay, shoot.” His dad sat down, rubbing the area between his eyes before facing Stiles completely.

“You told me that you’re sort of friends with Derek Hale, that you sometimes hang out at his house alone, he stumbles upon your accident when you were just down the road from his house. I go into your hospital room and you two are… I mean, what should I think of all this Stiles?”

He wanted to say it was nothing, but he was so tired of lying to his dad. About important things or not, life or death or not, he was tired of it. And mostly, he just didn’t want to lie about this.

“Yes, recently I’ve become friends with Derek. Yes, I hang out at his house alone sometimes. Yes, I was at his house before my accident. No, he was not involved in my accident. And yes, he and I were in a… compromising position at the hospital.”

“Compromising? That wasn’t a compromising position Stiles, that was an inappropriate position. Do you know how old he is? He’s twenty-four Stiles. You’re sixteen. Ah, don’t give me that, yes I know your birthday is coming up. Doesn’t matter.”

Stiles crossed his arms on one another and dropped his forehead to them.

“So what you’re saying is it doesn’t matter, he’s too old for me, so I can’t see him?” He heard his dad sigh and then the scrape of the chair against the floor. A moment later, he was pulling Stiles out of his chair and forcing him to face him.

“If I tell you not to, would you listen to me?” Stiles shrugged.

“Probably not.” His dad sighed again; rubbing his temples like Stiles was giving him a headache.

Which he probably was.

“Then just be careful Stiles. Even if I get to know him and find myself okay with it, which I want to do before anything else happens, not everyone in town will be as accepting of the age difference. And for god’s sake, don’t give me the details. Just be safe.”

Stiles could feel himself blushing, but after a quick hug from his dad, he started towards the stairs.

“If it helps dad, I’m not really sure if he feels the same.” His dad turned to face him, watching him carefully mount the first few steps before speaking.

“From where I stood, it sure looked like he does.” Stiles laughed, moving up a few more steps.

“He’s a tough guy to get a read on.”

His dad shook his head, that sad little smile he often got when it was late at night or he thought Stiles couldn’t see.

“You’d be pretty surprised by what you can read if you know what to look for.”

Stiles took that cryptic comment as his cue to leave. He said goodnight and continued up the stairs, grabbing his bag from the middle of the stairs as he did so and flinging it into his bedroom. He shrugged off his shirt, intent to find one that fit better (that’s the last time he should let his dad pack a bag for him) so he could sleep, but as he turned on the light, he was startled by a shadow in the corner of his room.

Derek was leaning against the wall near the window, watching Stiles’ with his eyes narrowed.

“We need to talk.”

\--------------

“What is your problem? You don’t just sneak into people’s bedrooms. Shit. You do realize my father has a gun, right? That didn’t escape your attention?”

Derek moved across the room quickly, slapping his hand against Stiles’ mouth to get him to shut up. Besides trying not to react to Derek’s proximity, again, he found himself listening to whatever it was that had gotten Derek’s attention.

“Your dad is on the phone. They have their suspicions on who ran you off the road.” Stiles pulled Derek’s hand off of his mouth, not immediately letting go of the other man’s wrist.

He probably shouldn’t be surprised when Derek didn’t pull away, but he was.

“Okay, so you broke into my bedroom because…?” Derek leaned a little closer, closer to Stiles and closer to the door.

It kind of occurred to Stiles in that moment that he was currently shirtless. Well, at least he was wearing pants. Sweatpants that wouldn’t hide anything if something… came up… but still.

“They spotted some suspicious people coming into town a few days ago; saw them head into the woods and no one could find them. Then Chris Argent informs your dad that a container of his merchandise was stolen recently.”

Stiles felt his stomach clench.

“And his merchandise is guns, right? Shit.”

Derek leaned further towards the door, simultaneously pressing his body along Stiles’. And for someone who lived what seemed like a rustic life, Derek sure did smell good. Great even. Really, really great.

“They didn’t just steal from the Argents because they have a lot of weapons. They stole with a purpose. These people, whoever they are, they’re hunters.”

Stiles sagged against the wall, feeling the loss against his front as it pulled his body away from Derek’s. He didn’t have to wait long before Derek was right there again, pressing his body just barely against Stiles’.

“I guess you don’t mean small game hunters. Fuck. We have to tell Jackson and Scott. We have to do something.”

He tried to move away from the wall, away from Derek, towards his bag, but it was useless. Partially because Derek wasn’t moving anywhere and partially because his dad had already told him that his phone wasn’t found at the scene.

Derek pulled Stiles’ phone from his pocket, but he tossed it behind him. It bounced off the bed and onto the floor, but it didn’t sound like it broke so Stiles didn’t do more than point and grunt.

“I’ve already told Jackson and Scott to stay indoors and be careful. These are rogue hunters though. Most likely they know about me and saw you leave, must have thought you were a wolf too.”

Stiles groaned, beating his head against the wall twice before remembering his dad was down stairs. He also felt a flash of pain, from his temples down to his toes. When he opened his eyes, Derek was glaring at him.

“Sorry, okay, shit, I forgot about it.” Derek leaned forward, pressing his mouth against Stiles’ neck again. He couldn’t help but to tilt his head to give Derek more room, shivered when he felt Derek running his nose up and down along the tendon there.

“I couldn’t forget it. You left and then I could feel the accident as it was happening. I felt your arm break, I felt the glass cut into your skin, I felt every bump and bruise. I was out of my house and trying to get to you, trying to push past the pain, trying to call you. You must have answered because I could hear you but I couldn’t… I couldn’t get past the pain to hear what you were saying. It was just by luck that I found you.”

Stiles could barely remember those parts, barely remembered trying to call his dad, barely remembered whatever it was he’d been babbling into the phone. He just knew he was in pain.

“And then when I got to you, the moment my hand touched your skin, the pain was gone. I pulled you out, checked to make sure you were alive, ran to get my car and got you to the hospital.”

Stiles could feel as well as hear the words, because he was speaking into his neck. He had an image of his father somehow knowing, barging in with his gun raised. But he knew if that happened, that he would gladly step in front of the gun if it meant the possibility that he’d get this again.

And by now, he was pretty sure that he was going to get it. You don’t reject someone’s arousal, which was the word Derek had used, by mouthing at their skin.

Not that Derek was exactly mouthing at the skin of his neck but he could feel his breath on it, every now and then feel his lips move as he spoke.

“You saved my life.” There was a moment of silence, a moment where Derek didn’t move, before he slowly pulled back to look at Stiles, eyes searching his face for something. 

Whatever it was, he must have found it because a smile started to pull at his lips and he leaned forward, mouth barely hovering over Stiles’.

“You said you wouldn’t give yourself to Lydia because you wanted to give yourself to someone else. On my porch, you were just about to tell me who.”

Stiles let his head thunk against the wall, eyes locked on Derek’s and unable to look away. He didn’t want to look away; he never wanted to look away again.

“Are you asking?”

Derek leaned forward, his lips barely brushing Stiles’ as he spoke.

“Who do you want to give yourself to?”

Here was his real moment of truth. Here was everything Stiles had been wanting for so long. And even if his dad stormed into his bedroom right now, guns blazing, he was going to take what he wanted.

“You.”

\------------

The word was barely out of his mouth before their lips collided, the sound of it being swallowed by the sound of Stiles groaning into the kiss, his right hand grasping Derek’s shoulder and his left simply wrapped around his waist. One of Derek’s larger hands was wrapped around the back of his head, tilting it backwards for better access, while the other kept him pinned to the wall at his hip.

Derek’s lips were branding, searing, claiming. It was everything that Stiles imagined a kiss with him would be. Not that he had a lot of practice, but he knew what felt good and it felt great.

Derek seemed to agree because there was a noise that was too low to be Stiles and he dropped his hands from Stiles’ hip and neck, grasping at his legs and hoisting them around Derek’s waist.

And god did that feel amazing. He could feel himself getting hard, could feel Derek getting hard, and no he didn’t want to rush into the sex part just yet but god it felt amazing just pressed up against him like he was. Once he’d been pinned back to the wall, legs tightly squeezed around Derek’s waist, Derek had used one of his hands to angle Stiles’ head again. His tongue swept in softly and slowly at first, a far cry from the demanding kiss beforehand. 

Once Stiles realized what was going on, he used his tongue to join with Derek’s, sliding it across and into Derek’s mouth, biting down on his bottom lip when Derek’s other hand splayed itself across his thigh, dangerously close to his ass.

They stayed like that, long after they stopped trading deep, wet kisses, Derek pressing forehead to Stiles’ until they regained their breath. Once they were both calm, Derek probably counting Stiles’ heart rate, Derek released his legs so that Stiles slid back to the floor.

“That was… unexpected.” Derek blinked a few times, pulling his head back to look at Stiles fully. Whatever he saw, it made him pull away from Stiles and start towards the window.

“Stay away from the woods and try to keep out of trouble until we know if the hunters are still around.”

He slipped out of the window before Stiles could move, before he could breathe, before he could stop him from escaping like that.

He moved to the window and looked out, eyes searching the darkness for Derek’s familiar form, ears straining to hear if his car was nearby.

“What the fuck just happened?” He slid onto the ground next to his window, replaying the last few minutes in his head. 

He’d admitted to wanting Derek, they kissed, Derek had dominated the kiss in a way that Stiles was going to have to remember for future jerk off sessions, and then Derek had skedaddled out of the window so fast he might have given himself whiplash.

He felt obligated to say it again.

“What the fuck just happened?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, to the people that clicked kudos or commented or simply read this story so far. I'm going to be working and without a reliable internet connection for about a week, so my next post might not be for a few days.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my story. Thank you for reading.

Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy or a little offended that his first day back to school was nothing like Lydia’s. People barely even glanced at him, even though he had a gash on the side of his head and his arm in a cast. Some people would glance, look away, and then look back. Some people seemed to know what happened because they asked how he was feeling.

One person seemed to not even notice that he was banged up, but what can you expect from Coach Finstock?

“Bilinski, why aren’t you in your practice gear?” The man’s voice echoed through the locker room where Stiles was sitting on a bench in front of his locker.

“Uh, doctor’s note dude.” Coach stared at Stiles and then at his clipboard and then back up to Stiles.

“Unless it’s something fatal, we always play on this team.”

Okay, no, they didn’t always play on this team. Stiles spent a good chunk of time on the bench. Instead of saying that, he lifted his arm that was in the cast and shook it side to side.

“Pretty sure I can’t play with a broken arm.”

Coach stared at the cast for a few seconds and then back down at his clipboard.

“You can keep times.” He handed the clipboard and stopwatch to Stiles before stalking off to yell at some other unsuspecting player.

Danny sat down next to Stiles, obviously trying to hold in a laugh. He was dressed out, apparently having forgiven Jackson for being an asshole the last time Stiles was at practice. 

“So I guess this means are weekend tutoring is over?” Stiles shrugged because yes, it did mean that weekend tutoring was over. He was pissed, because with his arm like this, he wouldn’t play at all this year.

“No worries. I’ll still suck next year. You can tutor me then.” Danny clapped Stiles on the shoulder, smiling at him as he got up and grabbed the rest of his gear.

Scott came and sat down next to Stiles next, lacing up his cleats and rolling his shoulders around.

“Coach has me running suicides because I missed two practices.” 

“Sucks for you wolf-boy, now let’s get out there before he forgets that I’m on the injured list.”

They didn’t even make it halfway before they ran into Jackson, who was already suited up but hadn’t been in the locker room with the rest of them.

“There’s a meeting tonight.”

They didn’t have to ask to know he didn’t mean a team meeting.

“I can’t make it.”

Both Scott and Jackson were staring at Stiles like he’d lost his mind. Danny, who had seen them gathered behind the rest of the group, had caught up with them and heard Stiles’ remark.

“Make it where?” Jackson shook his head, like it wasn’t important, but Scott spoke up first.

“To Derek’s for a pack meeting, you and Lydia and Allison are invited too. Dude, Stiles, you have to come. You’re like one of the main members of this pack.”

Hearing that from Scott actually made Stiles feel better, especially since this was the friend that kind of short changed him in other aspects of their friendship lately, but he still had to shake his head.

“I can’t go. You have no idea how grounded I am right now. The only reason I’m not home schooled is because my dad doesn’t want to quit his day job. I can’t go. Take notes and if it’s important, just text me or something.”

He kept walking, knowing that Scott and Jackson were still gaping at him. He couldn’t tell them that he was grounded because his dad had walked in on Derek hovering over him in the hospital like he belonged there. He was going to have to pretend he was grounded because he lied to his dad about his location.

Like getting into a car accident wasn’t punishment enough.

After practice, which felt like it lasted twice as long as usual, Stiles found Scott in the locker room.

“Don’t forget, you have to take me home before you go to Derek’s.”

Scott, who was in the middle of trying to figure out which way his shirt went on, glanced up at Stiles in confusion.

“Why?” Resisting the urge to either hit himself in the head or Scott, Stiles spoke really slowly so that Scott would comprehend.

“Because you were my ride to school and therefore my ride home.”

Realization dawned on Scott’s face and he smiled a little.

“Sorry. I forgot. Yeah, I can take you home. I’ll just text Derek and tell him I’ll be a little later than everyone else.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t that Scott was stupid, he just wasn’t exactly smart.

\-----------

When they pulled up in front of the Stilinski house, Stiles struggled to pull his book bag over his shoulder and sighed.

“So, what did Derek say when you told him you’d be late?” Scott made a noise and started to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Shit, I completely forgot. It’ll be fine, I’m sure Jackson or Danny would have told him what I was doing. I gotta run. I’ll call you when we get out, alright?”

Stiles nodded, shouldering his book bag and heading towards the doors, fishing out the spare house key and turning it in the lock. 

Inside, Stiles set his bag down near the couch and flopped down on it. The meeting would last an hour or so, so he wouldn’t even hear anything until past that. His dad was working until ten tonight, so he didn’t have him to bug. He could get on his computer and surf the web, but he wasn’t that bored yet.

Usually at this point, when he had nothing else to do, he’d text and bug Derek, but he wasn’t sure what was going on with the two of them and he didn’t want to make it worse, whatever it was.

Instead, he kicked his feet out on the couch, curled his good arm over his eyes and let his left arm rest against his stomach. It didn’t take long before he slowly drifted to sleep, something that he wouldn’t have been able to do if it wasn’t for the various pain medications he was taking.

\-----------

“Stiles, dammit, would you please wake up?” Stiles sat up quickly, head swimming and shuddering under the quick feeling of vertigo. His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the living room, zeroing in on his dad.

“Shit. What, sorry. Is everything okay?” His dad slumped against the arm of the couch, passing a hand over his face.

“I’ve been calling your cell and the house phone for the past hour Stiles, what is wrong with you?” 

Stiles swung his legs over the couch so that he was sitting normally, rubbing his eyes with his good hand and looking at the clock on the DVD player. It was just past seven at night.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work dad?” Except his dad was wearing his uniform and had his gun on, which he made sure never to do in the house unless he was on his way to or from work. 

“When you didn’t answer after a while, I came right over. How long have you been asleep?” 

Standing up, and helping his dad back into a standing position as well, Stiles moved into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and start looking for something to eat.

“Since I got home from practice.”

His dad was quiet while he scrounged out a few things to cook. When he looked over his shoulder, he took a moment to really look at his dad. He looked like he’d been working for three days straight. The accident had taken a toll on his dad, but this was something else.

“What’s going on dad?”

The Sheriff sighed, moving off the door jam and into the kitchen.

“We caught the person that had been driving the car that hit yours.”

Stiles dropped the spatula he was holding and turned around to face his dad fully. He remembered what Danny had said, what Derek had told him when he’d come into his room the night before.

“Who was it?”

The Sheriff took the spatula from his son’s hand and stirred what was in the skillet already before putting it on the counter. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to be out of the room, to be somewhere else, to not be having this conversation.

“We had him cornered, down in the industrial part of town. Thought we had him, moving in to arrest him. Then he shouts out that he’s not the only one and shoots himself in the head.”

His feet slid out from under him and his dad had to lurch forward to catch him around his waist before he fell completely. He lowered him to the ground gently, moving to sit next to him. Whatever was in the skillet, which Stiles couldn’t remember at this point, was probably going to burn.

“Was it… do they know if it was random or…”

Stiles couldn’t get his mind to work, couldn’t figure out why this was happening. Derek had said that the hunter might have known about Derek, might have assumed Stiles was a wolf too. But if they ran him off the road, thinking he was a wolf, they must have known that the crash wouldn’t have killed him.

These hunters were either really stupid or really careless. Stiles was afraid to try to figure out which one was true.

“As far as we know, it looks random. They’re trying to get any trace on this guy but Stiles, I can promise that we’ll figure this out. Until then, I don’t want you being alone. Until we know if this was planned or random, you’re going to have a police escort everywhere. There’ll be a squad car out front at all times.”

Stiles felt his stomach jerk, all thoughts of hunger driven away. Which was a feat in itself. 

“Is that necessary?” His dad stood up, carting Stiles up as he did so.

“My son was put in the hospital by some maniac that has a gun who told us that there are more like him and then shoots himself in the head? Yes, it is necessary. Be glad I’m not shipping you to live with your Aunt Olivia until we figure all of this out.”

Aunt Olivia was his dad’s scary older sister who had rules about carpet and music and noise and eating and breathing, if Stiles’ memory served him right.

“What about school?” The Sheriff put his hands on his hips, giving Stiles a look that clearly said that nothing Stiles said or did would change his mind.

And his dad said that Stiles got his stubbornness from his mom.

“I’ve cleared it with your principal. They are upping the security on campus anyways with these crazies on the loose. Mandatory town curfew again, I thought we were past this. And Stiles, if you even think about losing your detail? I’ll put you in a tiny box and ship you to Olivia myself.”

This time Stiles did wince, giving his dad a small smile afterwards.

“Got it dad, really. No more bending the rules. At least until this is cleared up. Do you want to stay for dinner or do you need to get back to work?”

They both looked at the only slightly burnt food on the stove before his dad shook his head.

“Guess I don’t have to get back right away. So, how’re your classes going kid?”

\-------------

When he checked his phone, which was on silent to keep from going off during classes and getting him another detention, he saw about 30 missed calls from his dad alone. Then there were a few from Scott, two from Lydia, one from Danny, three from Allison, and even one from Jackson.

Again he noticed the serious lack of one particular person, but he didn’t dwell on it. After whatever it was that happened the night before, Stiles would be surprised if he saw the alpha any time soon.

He also had a mass of unread text messages that he looked through in the order he received them.

Scott’s weren’t very eloquent. 

_Stiles you need to answer right now_

_Its really important_

_Im not kidding stiles_

_STILES!_

Like putting it in all caps would make him hear the phone go off more?

Allison and Lydia basically sent him the same text, with a few varied words.

_You need to call us as soon as you get this._

Danny even sent him a few.

_Call us when you get this._

_Or text us._

His favorite, the one that he saved and probably would end up printing and getting framed, was from Jackson.

_Call someone Stilinski, we are getting worried._

Jackson could deny it all he wanted, but now Stiles had electronic proof.

He dialed Scott’s number and let it go to voicemail once before dialing Danny’s. He had better luck there, with Danny answering after the second ring.

“Stiles?”

“No, Ghost of Christmas Past. What’s going on, why are you guys blowing my phone up?”

There was a lot of noise on the other side of the phone before he could hear the other people a little more clearly. Scott’s voice won out over the people clamoring to be heard.

“Stiles? Shit man, we thought you were… we heard what happened down by the mills.” Stiles threw himself onto his bed, wincing as it jarred his arm a bit. 

“Yea, my dad showed up and told me about it. You know I have like a 24/7 protective detail now? I’m not sure if that’s cool or annoying.”

Lydia’s voice was the next he heard.

“From what Derek said, that might be for the best.”

Stiles sat up quickly, biting down the return of the vertigo as he did so. He’d be happy when he could stop taking the damn pain meds that were making him feel like he was… well, drugged up.

“What did Derek say?”

There were three voices talking at once, causing Stiles to call attention to the fact that he couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Scott’s voice won out this time.

“He is in contact with the Argents. Apparently these are rogue hunters that have no qualms with taking out innocent bystanders. He called off the meeting at the last minute and made us all meet up at Jackson’s place and he told us everything over the phone.”

That sinking feeling that Stiles had had in the pit of his stomach intensified. He was definitely getting tired of people trying to kill him, but at least when it was Scott he had some sort of control over it.

“Shit. This is big, isn’t it? Shit. What if they go after my dad?” His dad was chasing after these people, these completely insane and dangerous people. He hated feeling helpless, hated thinking his dad could be in mortal danger.

And he had just promised not to try to lose his detail, so it wasn’t like he could stalk his dad without his dad finding out.

“I don’t think they will, they probably wouldn’t want to involve the local cops. I mean, that one guy had a gun. You think he would have turned it against the cops but he didn’t, he turned it on himself.”

That… actually improved Stiles’ mood incredibly.

“So what now, we just go about our normal lives until Derek decides what to do? What about the Argents? Isn’t this imposing or something?”

This time it was Allison that answered, which Stiles was grateful for. She’d know better than the others.

“Dad says they are going to work with Derek this one time. These hunters are a danger, not just to werewolves but everyone, so they are making an exception. The pact between them has been put on hold, within reason.”

The pact was that the wolves wouldn’t harm humans and the Argents wouldn’t harm the wolves. That was what Chris Argent had told Derek the night he turned human. They didn’t give them a warning shot; they would only give them a fair trial. A fair trial with the hunters being judge, jury and eventually executioner.

Stiles wondered how Allison was going to handle that if it ever came up.

“Okay. Well I feel a little safer knowing the scariest people in this town are on the same side for once.”

And make no mistake; he was pretty sure that the hunters were scarier than the werewolves at this venture. Sure, Peter Hale had been scarier than Chris Argent, but now? Chris Argent was ten times scarier than Derek Hale.

Most days.

“Hey guys, a cop just knocked on the door. Mandatory curfew for anyone under the age of 18. You all have to leave.” Jackson’s voice was muffled but still fairly clear. Stiles had to have been put on speaker. 

“Alright, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” It was Friday night so they wouldn’t have school tomorrow.

There was a trade of goodbyes and goodnights before Stiles hung up, flinging his injured arm over his eyes and wincing as his cast knocked into the bridge of his nose. The pain that it caused, bringing tears to his eyes, reminded him of the pain his arm had given him when he’d flopped onto the bed.

However in both cases, the usual pain of his connection with Derek didn’t come. Biting his lip, because this was going to hurt, he raised his cast and let it thunk against the wall. The pain shot down his arm, causing his entire body to shiver, but nothing else.

No headache, no shooting pain in his temples, no nausea, no cold sweats. He couldn’t remember having an episode since… since Derek kissed him?

His chest seized at the thought. Was that all that was needed to satisfy whatever the connection had been? Did Derek know? He looked at his phone at his side, stretching out to touch it before pulling his hand back.

No. Not yet. Derek had left him high and dry, basically literally, and he wasn’t going to seem like some whiney girlfriend. He was going to have some pride.

But having pride had nothing to do with sticking his hand down his pants, remembering in vivid detail the way Derek had been able to hoist him up and force Stiles’ legs around his waist.

\------------

The protective detail stayed outside all night, just like his dad had said. In the morning, Stiles brought the officer a cup of coffee and tried to pry any information out of him that he could.

“I’m sorry kid, but as the son of the sheriff, you should know I can’t tell you this stuff.” Stiles sighed, leaning against the cruiser and tapping his fingers against the top.

“I’m the one in danger here. Supposedly. You can’t even tell me something that could save my life?”

The officer looked at him for a few moments, sizing him up maybe. The next officer on duty pulled in, waving to the one that Stiles was talking to. He waved back and then looked to Stiles.

“I’ll tell you something that’ll save your life. That Hale character? Stay away from him. He’s just trouble kid.”

Before Stiles could retort, and he probably had a lot to say if he could locate his tongue, the officer got back in his car and drove off. Dumbfounded, he waved to the new detail and went back into the house where his dad was waking up.

“What’d you do, tell the whole force about Derek and I?” His dad looked up from the cup of coffee he was sucking down like a life force, eyebrows raised somewhere past his hairline.

“What in the hell are you talking about Stiles?” 

Stiles motioned to the front door he had just come through, as if that answered his dad’s question.

“The officer from last night. I was trying to get information from him-- oh, don’t give me that look dad, you knew it was bound to happen-- and he told me the only advice he could give me was to stay away from Derek because he was trouble!”

His dad watched him, still sipping his coffee, before he set the mug down and yawned.

“Hate to break it to you son, but no, I didn’t tell anyone about you and Hale. It’s not a conversation I’m excited to have, with anyone, that my son is seeing a guy eight years older than him.”

This time Stiles made a noise with his hopeless gestures. His dad stared at him without emotion because it was very early and he was definitely used to Stiles’ weirdness.

“For one, I’ll be seventeen soon and he only recently turned twenty-four so he’s only seven years older than I am. And for two, I’m not exactly seeing him dad.”

The sheriff snorted and started to raid the cabinets for something to eat. Stiles eyed his cereal choice before sighing and grabbing the milk from the fridge.

“From what I saw in the hospital--” Stiles put the milk down on the table, a little harder than he intended.

“Well things have changed since the hospital, okay?”

While Stiles moved to grab some bowls, he heard his dad clear his throat a few times. 

“How exactly have they changed Stiles? You just got out of the hospital on Thursday. It’s Saturday morning.”

He knew the moment his dad said it that he’d messed up. Of course his dad didn’t know that Derek had broken into his bedroom, that was the point of it all.

Shit.

“Just… look, can we not talk about this right now? I just want to know why Officer Good Advice out there even mentioned Derek to me. What, do I have a sign on me somewhere?”

The sheriff blinked a few times before looking down at Stiles’ cast. He followed the line of sight and balked.

There, written in medium sized letters that Stiles recognized, read: Derek Hale was here.

“Well shit.”

\-------------

He wanted to text Derek to ask when he found time to sign his cast. Stiles was pretty sure he’d remember that, but he didn’t. Which meant that it had to have happened while Stiles was unconscious or asleep or…

He really wanted to text Derek, but he also didn’t want to give in. He still had his pride, dammit!

Or something that vaguely resembled pride.

While he was weighing the pros and cons of texting Derek, his phone rang. The surprise of it caused him to launch his phone into the air, but it bounced on the bed next to him and he grabbed it, flipping it over to look at the name. Lydia. Better than nothing.

“Hey Lyds. Mind if I call you Lyds?” He heard her feminine giggle, a sound he never expected to cause unless it was at his expense, so he smiled.

“I’ve never had a nickname before. Sure, you can call me Lyds. How are you feeling?” 

Stiles flopped backwards; careful not to knock the phone out of the precarious grip he had it in with his hand in the cast.

“I’m still flying a little high with these pain pills, but not too bad overall.”

She made a curious noise in the back of her throat and Stiles flinched, remembering being in her bedroom when she was flying high. He really hoped she never remembered that.

“I’ve been thinking about something lately. I still have all of these scars, but if Peter bit me, why didn’t I change?”

Stiles had thought about this too, almost to the point of frying his brain. He wanted to talk to Derek about it, but that was difficult because he wasn’t talking to Derek. Besides, Lydia was pack now so he should have thought about it himself without prompting from Stiles.

“Maybe him dying reversed it?”

Except it probably would have reversed Scott’s too? Or maybe because she wasn’t affected by it in time it didn’t take it?

“Stiles, the full moon is coming up.”

He looked at the calendar he’d installed on his wall after Scott had gotten bit. It showed the phases of the moon. He didn’t go as far as circling the days, because his dad would get suspicious if he noticed, but it was obvious where they were on the calendar. And by that count, they had less than a week before the next full moon.

“It’ll be fine Lydia. Even if you are… we don’t know that you are. We’ll figure something out before then, I promise you.”

She was quiet for a while after that and Stiles kept his phone pressed almost painfully to his ear, listening to her breathing over the tinny speakers.

“You’re a good friend Stiles.”

He had to laugh at that because he was, but he was also a bad friend at the same time. Probably wasn’t the best time to outline his flaws though.

“You too Lyds.”

There was another bout of silence before Lydia excused herself, saying she had to help her mom with something. They hung up and Stiles looked at his phone for a minute before giving in and calling Derek.

And honestly, he was going to be great in the sack. Think of all the positions he could get into since he was apparently spineless.

He didn’t have to think about it though because he waited and waited but it kept ringing, before going to the generic voicemail of a digital voice repeating the phone number and the lifeless tone that told him he could leave a message.

“Derek…”

He hung up, not sure what he could say. He didn’t understand it but he felt like he’d lost something. The connection with Derek had been important somehow and now it was gone. Now it was gone and so was Derek.

\-------------

There was a knock on his bedroom door but Stiles didn’t even roll over, simply shot it a glare. A few moments later there was another knock, more persistent this time.

“Leave me alone, I just want to listen to depressing music like every other dramatic teenager.”

He could hear his dad’s laughter through the door so he pulled off his headphones, even though the music was already paused.

“You have a visitor Stiles.”

Stiles nearly broke his leg getting off of his bed, checking himself in the mirror to make sure he didn’t look too ragged before opening the door.

His dad was giving him a look like he knew what Stiles had just done before gesturing towards the stairs.

“Remember, there’s a curfew.” Stiles nodded and moved to the stairs, surprised when his dad stayed upstairs. He took the stairs two at a time, which was normal for him, but he lost his balance at the bottom because of his broken arm and not being able to use his hand to grip the rail properly.

“Fuck, ow, I’m okay, ow. It’s okay, all valuable parts are still in working condition.”

He lifted his head, swallowing his words as he was greeted with the sight of Jackson and not Derek. Not that he was expecting Derek.

Except that was definitely expecting Derek.

“Hey.”

Stiles moved to the living room, pointing at a chair for Jackson to sit in before flopping onto the couch, letting his arm rest in his lap. 

“There is probably a reason you’re here, but I can’t think of it. However if you think you can beat me up in my own house, I want you to know that I will use my cast as a weapon and my dad has a gun.”

That got a chuckle out of Jackson, which wasn’t what Stiles was aiming for but whatever. They hadn’t exactly had time to talk since the whole bonding experience of both caring about Lydia being in the hospital, being thrown around by Chris Argent and his goons, and then setting Peter on fire.

That last part had been the best part.

“I’m just here to apologize. For practice. I might have gotten a little rough.” Stiles wanted to ask which practice he was referring to, but this was gold. Not only had Jackson admitted to being worried about Stiles when he didn’t answer their calls and texts the night before, but now he was here apologizing? It was unbelievable.

In fact, Stiles didn’t believe it.

“What’s the catch?” He crossed his arms, or tried to. He wasn’t looking very tough with his bright green cast with stick figures drawn on it.

He’d gotten bored. There was one that represented everyone in the group, not that he’d ever tell them that.

“No catch. You’re part of the pack and I need to treat you like one.”

Stiles glared, leaning forward towards Jackson’s space. Not that he thought Jackson would be intimidated, and he wasn’t, but it was the pretense of it that mattered.

Or something like that.

“Who made you come here? Derek? Lydia maybe? Danny?”

Jackson huffed, standing up and moving towards the door.

“No one, you idiot. I actually came here to do the right thing, to try to make things better before school.” 

Stiles followed him onto the porch, waving at the cop that was sitting in his car watching them. He made an effort to pitch his voice lower, just in case.

“You gotta admit, it is a little suspicious. But if your intentions are honorable…” Jackson rolled his eyes, hopping down the last steps to lean against his Porsche, arms crossed over his chest and looking just a little bit lost.

“You know what Derek said, the pack is stronger in numbers. Not just wolves, but humans too. And with everything that’s going on, we need each other now more than ever. Like I said, you’re part of this pack.”

Stiles watched Jackson for a couple of seconds, wondering where this mature teen came from and what he did with the cocky jackass that Stiles has known for so long. Obviously tired of being stared at, Jackson moved to the driver’s side door and unlocked it. Before he could get in, Stiles reached out with his injured arm and stretched so that Derek’s signing was visible.

Above it was Scott’s signature; below it was both Jackson and Lydia’s. 

“Do you know when Derek signed my cast?” Jackson looked at it, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“No, I don’t.”

He got into his car before Stiles could call him out on it, because that look obviously meant he knew something. He frowned at the tail lights as Jackson sped off; way too fast considering a cop was parked only a few feet away.

There were just some questions he wasn’t meant to know the answers to.

\-------------

Monday at school was kind of like every other day at school, except for the police officer following Stiles around. A lot of people stopped to stare, but the school had upped their security anyways so the guy mostly blended in. 

You know, if you ignored the gun and the fact that he was about three feet behind Stiles at all times.

“Dude, you know, even my shadow takes a break. Don’t you think you can protect me from a distance or something?”

The officer sighed, but did let up after Stiles brought it up. He stayed at a distance, but always within sight. Not that Stiles was complaining, being alive was totally worth the embarrassment.

“Stiles? What’s your shadow’s name? He’s kinda hot.” Jackson was sitting rigid while Lydia spoke, spearing fruit out of Stiles’ fruit bowl without asking. Not that Stiles would have denied her the fruit, but it was food. 

“No. He’s like thirty. The answer is no.”

Lydia laughed, squeezing Stiles’ wrist before returning to her thievery. Scott and Allison joined them, being the last ones to make it to the table. It sort of worked, because this was how they sat before sometimes, when Scott first started dating Allison. Only now it wasn’t awkward because they weren’t the same social status.

Now it was awkward because two of them were werewolves, two of them had recently been put in the hospital because of werewolf related activities, one was the daughter of werewolf hunters, and the other was Danny.

Not that Danny was awkward. He was the least awkward at their table.

“So who knows what the next step is on the ‘we aren’t supposed to talk about it’ front?” Danny’s voice was low, but he didn’t need to worry. The lunchroom was absurdly loud that afternoon and the officer was standing far enough away he wouldn’t be able to hear them unless he was a werewolf.

Which wasn’t a comforting thought at all.

“That makes it sound like it’s fight club or something.” Jackson was shaking his head at his best friend. Whatever happened the past few days, Danny and Jackson seemed to be in better spirits and able to be around one another without one of them getting angry.

Jackson was still a grade A douchebag, but he was also sometimes a good person. Somehow.

“Dude, it’s exactly like fight club.” Stiles was actually kind of excited by that prospect. He’d always wanted to be in a fight club. 

Maybe he could talk his opponent into tapping out.

The group looked at one another and started laughing, the girls covering their mouths in their dainty fashions while the rest of them didn’t care that they looked like lunatics. And if the people nearby wondered what was so funny, why that particular group of people who usually had little to do with each other were enjoying themselves, to hell with it.

The way Stiles saw it, if he was going to die, he didn’t want to die with people thinking that Scott was his only friend.

\------------

Derek sent them all a mass text saying that he had news and they needed to have another phone conference. Those weren’t his words, but Stiles was pro at reading between the lines now. He texted back between classes, because Derek never returned his phone calls or his texts the entire weekend but Stiles didn’t care. He’d annoy Derek into talking to him.

It was going to be more difficult since they weren’t at Derek’s place for the meetings, so Stiles couldn’t just wait for everyone else to leave to talk. He’d have to somehow catch him unawares.

They all met up at Lydia’s house this time, since her mom was at work “or something.” Stiles’ shadow stayed out in the cruiser outside of the house, after much persuasion from Stiles. 

They were sprawled out in the living room, all cell phones in the middle because they didn’t know which one Derek would call. There were drinks and snacks and a movie in the background that no one was paying attention to.

Really they’d lost Stiles’ interest the moment Lydia had brought out the snacks.

One of the phones started to ring and everyone rushed to grab theirs, but it was Scott’s that was going off. He put it on speaker and left it in the middle of the table.

“Everyone’s here. Even Stiles.” He shot his best friend a look that was ignored, go figure. 

“Fine. I talked to Chris Argent. He wants to set up a trap for the rogue hunters using one of us as bait.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, everyone’s faces reflecting the same things, before everyone started shouting at once. Stiles waited for it to die out before he voiced his own opinion.

“Well it can’t be you, so who are you going to put in danger’s way Derek?”

It was a challenge, one that everyone knew not to touch. Danny and Lydia weren’t very involved anyways, so they stayed off to the side. Allison was pressed against Scott’s side, probably remembering the terrifying time of them locked in the school and Scott trying to play hero.

And Jackson looked like he was going to be sick.

“Why can’t it be me Stiles?” Derek’s voice was low and dangerous.

“Because you’re the alpha. Wouldn’t a pack be dangerous without their alpha? I mean, us mere mortals would be fine, but Jackson and Scott? Without your guidance and control, they’d be hell. No offense.”

Scott shrugged it off because he probably agreed, but Jackson shook his head.

“Is that true?” He was staring at Scott’s phone like it was actually Derek and not just Derek’s voice.

“Yes. He’s right.”

Stiles gave himself an inward pat on the back because he was using what he’d learned off the internet. Anyone that said that research was useless could suck it.

“I’ll do it.” Because it was up to one of the betas, Scott started to complain when Jackson volunteered, but it was only half hearted.

“No man, that’s not right.” Jackson shook his head, looking a little lost as he spoke.

“It has to be me. You’re the better fighter, you’ve had more practice, you have to be part of the trap.”

Scott leaned forward, causing Allison to lean with him.

“But me being the better fighter should mean that I should be the bait. That way if it gets sticky, I can get out of it better.”

Before Jackson could give whatever rebuttal he had prepared for that, Derek interrupted him.

“If things get bad, it won’t matter who the better fighter is. They have guns.”

The severity of the situation sank in, but Jackson still said he should be the bait. After a while of them bickering back and forth, it was agreed that Jackson would put himself on the line. 

\------------

Chris Argent was no less creepy now that he wasn’t hunting his best friend, but Stiles tried not to let that show. The man smiled when he knocked on the door, waving to the cop that was parked outside, and let Stiles in without a moment’s hesitation.

“Nice of you to stop by Stiles. Honestly I thought it would have happened sooner.” Stiles scratched his neck, swinging his casted arm back and forth lightly.

“Why is that?” He motioned for Stiles to sit on the couch and he thought about it before flopping down.

He’d never been in the Argents house without Allison being there. She was still at Lydia’s with Scott and them, but Stiles wasn’t sure how long he had before they left.

“Well, you’re here to talk about Hale, aren’t you?”

Stiles looked up at Mr. Argent, eyebrows doing their best to climb off his forehead. His surprise seemed to confuse the hunter because he coughed into his hand and leaned forward so his forearms were resting against his legs.

“Maybe you could tell me why you are here?”

Stiles shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable but not really being able to. It wasn’t the couch, it was the company.

“You’re going to be using one of my friends as bait soon.”

Mr. Argent nodded, making a knowing sound as he stood up and went into the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water and tossing one to Stiles. He caught it with his good hand, placing it at his feet instead of opening it.

“Yes, Hale called me to tell me about it. Jackson, the newest member. Good choice; he’s new and expendable.”

Bristling, Stiles shook his head.

“He volunteered; it wasn’t like there was a vote.” Mr. Argent nodded again, reclaiming his seat across from Stiles.

“So why are you here?” This was where it got tricky and he needed to tread softly.

“I’m here because using the wolves as bait is a very bad idea.”

Mr. Argent smirked, once again leaning forward onto his forearms. He couldn’t see any of him in Allison. Which was probably for the best.

“Why would that be?” Stiles had rehearsed this bit in the car, to himself of course, on the way there.

“Jackson is just a teenager. You wouldn’t let your kind of psycho sister shook Scott because he’s just a teenager, innocent. Well Jackson’s the same thing. Young and innocent. Neither of them has spilt any blood… well, you know, besides Peter Hale’s.”

Frowning, Mr. Argent sat back.

“So we use Derek instead.”

Stiles shook his head. At least he had proof on this one.

“And say your trap isn’t as good as you think and he gets killed. That leaves two fledgling betas without their alpha, without guidance and control. You know how uncontrollable they’ll get like that.”

He was playing on the hunter’s memory of past hunts, but it seemed to work because his face fell.

“What does that leave?”

And this was the real tricky part.

“Me.” Mr. Argent shook his head, barely letting the two letters fully leave Stiles’ lips.

“No. You’re a human; it’s against what we stand for.” Stiles held up his hand, asking for a moment.

“Yes, I’m human. And they know that by now. But they’ll also know that I’m important to the pack. They made a mistake the first time. They won’t do it again.”

Mr. Argent stared at him hard for a moment. He glanced at his water bottle before putting the cap back on it and moving into the kitchen. When he came back, he was holding a beer instead.

“Why are you so sure they won’t just kill you?” He wasn’t sure, but he could fake it like the best of them.

“Because they will want to use me the same way you will be. As bait. To draw the werewolves out of hiding to be picked off one by one.”

He only hoped that it was true. Mr. Argent took a few long pulls on his beer before setting it down in front of him on the coffee table. Stiles’ eyes were drawn to the condensation dripping down the sides before looking back up to the hunter.

“Why would you risk your life for them?” He wasn’t asking because Stiles was a teenager and was offering himself up for the slaughter, he was asking because Stiles was a human and he was sacrificing himself for a bunch of rabid animals.

“Because they’d do the same for me.” Because that’s what a pack does. He didn’t say it, because he didn’t want Mr. Argent paying too close attention to their pack, but it was true.

“We’ll have to do it before I planned the trap with Derek. It’ll be dangerous Stiles. If you get hurt, or worse…”

He left it open, but Stiles knew what he was getting at. He remembered his father’s words, telling him never to scare him like he had when he’d been in his accident. He was doing it just as much for him as he was for the pack. Because his dad was pack by association as far as Stiles was concerned.

Because he wanted to keep his dad safe and he wasn’t safe with this idiot hunters willing to take someone out at any given moment.

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

He nodded, standing up and leading Stiles to the door. When they got there, Mr. Argent got his number and said he’d call him when it was going to happen. Before he could open the door, Stiles turned to face him once more.

“Why did you think I came here to talk about Derek?”

Mr. Argent’s eyes widened a little before he assume his normal (creepy) smile.

“Just a hunch.” He pulled the door open, nearly knocking Stiles out of the way, and ushered him out.

Stiles was confused, but he’d achieved what he wanted. Now he just needed to try not to let anyone on to what he did and try to convince himself that he’d survive the trap.

He wasn’t sure how much faith to put in Chris Argent’s protection.

\--------------

The call came a day later, two days before the full moon. He wasn’t sure how Mr. Argent managed it, but he was able to get an officer on detail that worked for him. 

He didn’t feel comfortable knowing that some of his dad’s men worked for the hunters. No, that didn’t comfort him at all.

He sat in the car with Mr. Argent, trying to calm his nerves as much as possible. 

“Mr. Argent--” The man made a noise, flashing his mostly false smile in Stiles’ direction.

“Ah now, that’s not right. Call me Chris.” That was weird.

“Well then, Chris. Where exactly are you taking me?” 

They’d been driving in mostly silence for a while. Completely unnerving and not helping Chris at all.

Calling him Chris felt weird.

“To the woods, where we’ll drop you off and wait.” Stiles waited for the rest of the plan and balked when he realized that that was it.

“Really? No detailed plans on how to save my ass from insane hunters? Just drop me off and wait? What is wrong with you?!” 

Chris laughed, flicking his headlights off and continuing to drive. That was such a safety hazard, Stiles couldn’t even comprehend.

“You’re the one that volunteered. I had to find ways to lie to your werewolf friends without getting caught; do you know how hard that is? If you don’t like how I’m running things, I can take you back and pick up one of them. Jackson volunteered, right?”

Knowing when he was defeated, Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and glared through the windshield. 

“I don’t feel very safe.” This time Chris’ laugh unnerved Stiles more than usual.

“You hang out with werewolves. You’re not very safe. Here we are.”

He parked the car and they both got out, Stiles jumping up and down to get some blood pumping. They weren’t very far off the Hale property, just far enough not to be trespassing.

“So go walk for a while. Our sources tell us they are out here. We’ll only be a little ways behind you at all times, so you’ll be safe. I have men hidden around the area with night vision. You’ll be just as protected as with your wolves, only we have guns.”

Biting his tongue so he wouldn’t remind Chris that the other hunters had guns too, his guns actually, he took off in a random direction. He had to talk to himself under his breath so that he wouldn’t get spooked by all the creaks in the forest.

His phone vibrated once in his pocket and he lifted it out, freezing when he saw Derek’s name. He opened it and looked over the text.

_Where are you right now?_

Stiles moved to type in something, but stopped. He was trying to protect them, trying to prove his worth. He didn’t need to feel guilty about that, so why did he?

_At home doing homework of course._

He hadn’t meant to type that. He definitely hadn’t meant to send that. He glared at his traitorous thumbs and waited for another text, but instead came a phone call.

“You’re not at home doing homework because if you were, we’d be having this conversation in person and not over the phone.”

Stiles tripped over a root but tried to muffle his surprise at it.

“Dude, you’re in my bedroom? While I’m not there? That’s really creepy.”

He thought he saw movement to his left and he glanced over, eying the area until his eyes started to hurt. He really wished he’d thought to grab his own night vision from Chris. This was potentially the worst idea Stiles had ever had.

“Where are you?” His voice was deep and low, the growl of an alpha, but Stiles didn’t even falter in his steps. He wasn’t one of his betas, he didn’t have to listen.

He opened his mouth, poised to offer more bullshit, but this time he was sure he saw movement. He looked again and surely enough there was a person moving towards him. He swallowed; hopefully not loud enough that Derek’s sensitive ears would pick it up.

“You know what, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you right back.”

If he survived this, not only would he call Derek back, he’d call him back and call him out on ditching him after they kissed. He just really needed to survive this first.

He kept walking, not directly at the person heading towards him but kept them in his sights. He wasn’t sure how far he’d gotten from where he’d been dropped off, but it seemed not to matter.

Everything happened really quickly. The person that had been heading towards him yelled and fell to the ground, followed by two others that Stiles hadn’t seen. He fell over, crawling to a huge tree trunk and pressing his back to it, waiting. 

Suddenly there was a hand over his mouth, with no warning at all, but Stiles still screamed. Then there was an arm and it hoisted him up, pinning him to whoever had snuck up on him. They smelled like the woods and… well whatever it was, it didn’t smell good. 

“Be quiet or I’ll break your neck.” Stiles stopped struggling, shoving his hand into his pocket and fumbling for his phone. Chris was… no longer the last number he called. The plan had been, if Stiles got in trouble, to call Chris by simply hitting send. Now the last number on there would be Derek’s and…

“Where are they?” The hand was still over his mouth, so he waited for the guy to realize that. Instead he shook Stiles roughly, hand coming up to grab his throat.

“I said, where are they?” Stiles mumbled something into the hand, resisting the urge to bite down on it with everything he had.

He realized his hand was over Stiles’ mouth because he pulled it away.

“Who are you referring to?” The guy’s hand around his throat tightened.

“Your wolf friends. There the ones out here taking down my men.”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that it wasn’t the wolves; they didn’t even know he was out here. However before he could, trying to find a way to stall him until one of the good hunters came and saved his ass, there was a noise from behind them that actually made Stiles’ blood run cold.

It was the low, deep growl of the alpha, live and in person. Fuck.

The guy spun them around, using Stiles as a shield which sucked. Derek was shifted, big and burly and red glowing eyes narrowed at them. No matter the fact that he should be scared of a fully shifted Derek, especially this close to the full moon, Stiles couldn’t help but feel safer just then than he had before.

“Ah, knew they must be close by. You want him to stay alive, shift back to your human form.”

Derek growled, lowering himself and inching forward. The guy put his hands around Stiles’ neck and for the first time, Stiles wondered why he wasn’t armed.

“I swear I’ll break his neck.” Derek stopped moving forward, his growling growing in intensity. 

“Your name is Stiles, right? And that must be the infamous Derek Hale. What about the others in the pack? What are their names?”

Stiles turned his head and glared at the guy, who simply chuckled. It was like he had the upper hand here.

Which he might have.

“Oh, such spark. I can see why you keep him around Hale.” Derek’s growling got louder and Stiles forced himself to face Derek, forced himself to meet Derek’s glowing red eyes, and tried to convey that he needed to stay in control.

Stiles’ life literally hung in the balance. 

Sadly, the hunter seemed to catch on to what happened as Derek’s growls grew softer. Stiles could see him smiling, creepier than Chris Argent could if he tried, making Stiles’ skin crawl.

“Yes, this is exactly what we wanted to see. Now Stiles, while we have your alpha in such a good mood, why don’t you tell me who the others are in your pack. I promise I’ll let you go.”

This time when Derek’s growl grew, not even Stiles’ pleading looks would calm him down. The hunter pulled him backwards, hand still wrapped pretty tightly around his neck. Stiles was probably going to have to wear a turtleneck to cover the bruises.

“Stay right where you are Hale.” The hand was gone but something cool replaced it, biting into the edge of his skin. It didn’t hurt, he barely felt it, but he knew what it was.

The bastard brought a knife to a werewolf fight? As if he heard Stiles’ thoughts, he bent his head down to speak into his ear.

“It won’t do anything special to you, just cut you and make you bleed out. But use this knife on a werewolf, phew. It’s covered in a special alloy; it eats at a werewolf’s skin. Would you like to see it in action?”

Stiles shook his head, briefly forgetting the knife and wincing as it bit further into his skin. 

He almost wished for the comforting reminder of his connection with Derek, the pain to sweep through his head, but it never came. Derek glared at the knife, maybe thinking the same thing.

“Tell me who the others are Stiles. I can stay here all night.”

He opened his mouth, probably to tell the hunter to fuck off, but there was a loud noise behind them that scared the man and he jerked his hand back, thankfully not slitting Stiles’ throat in the process. 

Chris Argent was standing behind them, gun raised and trained on the rogue hunter. He couldn’t turn to face him because that would leave his back unprotected to the wolf, so he forced them sideways between the two evils.

“Here is your only choice. Let the goy go and come quietly, or I’ll kill you and you’ll come quietly.”

The hunter darted his eyes between Chris, who looked ready to kill, and Derek, who was definitely ready to kill. Stiles knew the moment he’d come up with a plan because the hand holding him in place tightened.

“Oh, I think I’ve found another choice.”

There was barely any pain, which was surprising. He looked down and saw the blade sticking out of his side, but he couldn’t see much else. He felt his legs crumple underneath him and the only thing in his mind was that he couldn’t believe that guy had actually stabbed him.

Chris’ voice was there, telling Derek to stay with Stiles. Stiles watched unattached as Chris ran through the forest in the direction the other hunter had gone. His eyes started to water and he turned his eyes, met with the familiar green eyes of Derek in human form.

And naked, wow Derek was naked.

“Dude, clothes.” Derek leaned forward, putting his hand on the hilt of the blade but winced and quickly tore his hand back.

“I can’t touch it. You’ll have to pull it out yourself.” 

The thought made Stiles’ stomach turned, but Derek wasn’t giving him any choice here. Using his uninjured hand, he reached down and wrapped it around the hilt of the knife. Taking a few deep breaths, he pulled it out.

It wasn’t in far, but it was in just far enough that blood started soaking down his shirt and pooling on the ground.

“Oh god, I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Derek shook his head, pressing his hands to Stiles’ side to stop the bleeding.

“No. We’re going to get you patched up and you’ll be back to your annoying self in no time.”

Stiles wanted to slump over but there wasn’t a tree behind him to lean against. Instead he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Derek’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

“Why are you naked?” Derek snorted, shifting so that he could put a firmer pressure on the wound.

“My clothes tear when I shift. I’m not completely naked.” And he wasn’t, because there seemed to be some shredded clothes hanging in tatters around his waist.

“Like a loincloth. Nice.” 

The pain was there, starting to throb in his side. It made Stiles consciously aware of the lack of their connection. Derek must have noticed it too because he pulled back far enough to look at Stiles.

“It’s gone.” It was. It had been since Derek kissed him. 

Stiles wanted to say something, anything, because he promised himself that he would if he survived the night. Now wasn’t the time though, because he hadn’t survived yet. He was slowly bleeding out while an almost naked Derek Hale tried to keep him alive.

Really, it was the kind of surreal thing that Stiles wouldn’t have come up with in his wildest dreams. And he’d had a few.

Derek was staring off into the forest with his eyes narrowing, before he nodded and moved to look at Stiles once more.

“There is someone here to help you but he can’t find us out here. I’m going to have to carry you.”

Stiles made a noise, intent on protesting being treated like some damsel in distress, but Derek lifted him up with ease and started moving at a startling pace out of the woods. Trees zipped by faster than Stiles could comprehend, so he closed his eyes and waited.

He didn’t even make it out of the woods before passing out. 

\-------------

Waking up was difficult, it came in spurts and there was a shooting pain in his side as he tried to sit up. A man’s hand was on his shoulder, pushing him down. He could see the man but his name wasn’t coming to him.

Until it did.

“Deaton?” The man smiled, pushing Stiles down once more and looking over his chest. His bare chest. With the gauze taped to one side.

“Did you stitch me up?” The vet nodded, checking the gauze and then helping Stiles slide off the table to stand. He was uneasy on his feet at first but he quickly got a handle on it.

“Yes I did. You’re lucky; you lost a lot of blood.”

Stiles nodded, looking down at the gauze on his side. A vet had patched him up. A vet that worked on werewolves and pets patched him up. 

“It was either me or bring you to a hospital. It was believed by everyone involved that I would be the smarter choice.”

Because at the hospital, his dad would find out. Wow. This was a good idea. But his dad… oh god, his dad.

“How long have I been out for?” The vet held out a calming hand, poking his head around a wall and motioning someone forward.

“We covered it. You’re staying the night at Scott’s house. Your security detail cleared it with your dad.”

The security detail that worked for the Argents as well. Scott came in through the back doors, eyes wide as he took in Stiles’ appearance.

“What the hell were you thinking Stiles?”

He wasn’t sure he had been thinking. Except that he knew he had been, he knew exactly what he’d been thinking.

“Do you remember the night we found the top of Laura Hale’s body? You were so freaked out thinking Derek would come and find us and I said that if he came, you’d run one way and I’d run another and too bad for whoever he caught first?”

That had been an interesting night all around. Scott nodded though, moving into the room and nodding to Deaton as he left.

“You were a werewolf. I knew you’d run faster. I knew it was more likely that he’d catch me first.”

It took a few minutes before realization dawned on Scott’s face.

“You were going to put yourself in danger to protect me?”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he meant tonight or that night, but he nodded all the same.

“But what… if something would have happened, your dad…”

It was something that ate at Stiles, but it was in the past. Or as far in the past as it could be.

“I had to know that I could do it Scott, that I could be the hero for once. I don’t have any wolfy superpowers; I have to do what I can.”

His heroic notion got him stabbed, but thankfully Scott didn’t point that out. They were quiet as Scott handed Stiles a clean pair of pants and shirt, helping him as he winced trying to get the clothes on.

It wasn’t until he was dressed that Stiles remembered what had happened.

“Did Chris catch the guy? And where is Derek?”

Scott looked a little ill, but sighed.

“The guy got away from Mr. Argent, so he has Derek trying to sniff him out.”

Fighting back the disappointment, because Stiles wanted to thank Derek in person, he nodded and looked himself over in a small mirror in the bathroom.

“Well, I look like shit and could use some food and some sleep. Shall we?”

They left the vet’s, both of them climbing into the backseat of the cruiser with Stiles’ double agent security detail, and headed towards Scott’s house. Everything else would have to wait.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like chapter six will be the end of INYSMC. I know that seems very abrupt but... drum roll please...
> 
> I'm already working on the plot for a sequel. I'm sorry I haven't been able to update until tonight. It's been difficult to get a good internet connection. Hopefully this'll go through. Also working 11pm to 7am makes my usual late night postings difficult.
> 
> So here you go. Thank you to everyone that commented, hit kudos, and simply read this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The next day in school, Stiles could barely focus. He had trouble focusing on most days, but it was different. His side ached every time something bumped it or if he moved in a certain way. Thankfully he had his doctor’s note for his arm so he was still exempt from practice, but that didn’t stop people randomly bumping into him in the hallway.

Plus the pretty impressive glare that Jackson shot him at lunch made for awkward conversation.

“It wasn’t because I thought you couldn't handle it, Jackson. I just thought that I was the better choice.” Maybe not the better choice, because Stiles was not only human but injured, but him being human might have been what saved him.

Jackson growled at Stiles, still unable to hold a candle to Derek’s calmest growls. Which wasn’t Stiles being biased, not at all.

“And yet you got stabbed, you imbecile.”

That… was true, but also not the point.

“But if you had been stabbed instead, the knife would have torn up your skin or something equally disgusting. Derek couldn’t even grasp the hilt to pull it from my side.”

He tried to ignore Lydia and Allison’s tandem flinches at the description of what happened. Scott had seen the wound afterwards, so he didn’t react. Off to the side was Danny, trying not to see intrigued by the conversation and failing.

After pausing on the topic, Jackson turned his head away from Stiles in a move that Stiles recognized as being ignored. He was found uninteresting for the day. It was something that he went through with Jackson fairly often these days.

If he thought he was having trouble focusing, Lydia had it worse. She looked exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open during lunch. She was having trouble paying attention in a way that was normal for Stiles, but for her? It was odd.

He kept an eye on her as much as possible, fending off questions from their classmates on why she wasn’t herself. She’d been different since she returned to school, but she still kept up her cheerful attitude. Now it seemed like just smiling at Stiles between classes was taking everything out of her.

After the last bell, Stiles waved goodbye to his friends before moving over to where the cruiser was parked. The officer on duty wasn’t the same one from the morning. It took Stiles a moment before he was able to place where he had seen him before.

It was the officer that had told Stiles not to spend time with Derek.

“To the batcave Alfred.” The officer rolled his eyes and Stiles took a quick moment to catch his nametag before getting into the back of the car. 

Hendricks. He’d have to ask his dad about an officer named Hendricks.

“Have a good day in school? Learn anything new?” Stiles refused to answer out of some childish pettiness, choosing instead to pull out his phone and check for any missed calls or texts. 

None, except for the saved one that had come through in the morning from Derek.

_Try not to get yourself killed in school today._

Stiles was never going to delete that message. 

“You sure you want to go home? Don’t want to stop by Hale’s house for a chat or anything?” 

No, because Derek and Chris Argent had told Stiles that they hunter had gotten away and was able to cover his scent somehow, so Derek’s place was still off limits. And, by order Chris Argent and on threat of telling his father, Stiles wasn’t even allowed to look at the woods for the time being.

“Is there a particular reason you keep bringing him up around me?” Something told Stiles that it didn’t have anything to do with Derek’s signature on his cast. 

He waited, watching Hendricks curiously as they made their way to the house. When he opened his mouth, to ask again, Hendricks finally answered.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just seen you and your friends leave his house a few times. And I’ve seen you leave his house by yourself a few times. I’m not telling you who you can and can’t be friends with, but he’s bad news.”

Stiles snapped his mouth shut, really not wanting to tear into someone that got paid to carry a gun. Instead he crossed his arms and watched the trees zip past the window.

He really wished he’d be able to go home and just go to sleep. He had more homework than he knew what to do with and he actually needed to do most of it so that his grades didn’t slip too much.

Besides, he had every intention of calling and bugging Derek. He promised himself, if he survived, he’d talk to Derek about what happened in his bedroom that night.

\------------

Hendricks dropped him off and traded shifts with one of the officers that Stiles already knew, a man named Carlos. He smiled and waved to him from the front door before going in, locking the door and resting his head against it.

When he turned around, he had to force himself not to scream and alert the officer just outside that something was wrong. Because nothing was wrong, just a werewolf in his living room.

“How in the hell did you get in here? Don’t answer that. Get upstairs before they see you through the window.”

Derek didn’t say anything, didn’t object to being told what to do. He simply started towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. Stiles stayed in the living room for a few moments, trying to catch his breath and figure out what to do next, before going up the stairs at a slower pace.

In his bedroom, Derek was looking over the books on his bookshelf as if he hadn’t been in there before. Not wanting to hurry this conversation along if he didn’t have to, Stiles went over to his desk where he dropped his book bag. 

He really needed to do homework, but something told him that Derek wouldn’t take kindly to being ignored for too long.

Indeed, Derek cleared his throat and drew Stiles’ attention to him. He looked tired, his five o’clock shadow looking more like a ten o’clock. His eyes were red, not alpha red but as if he hadn’t been sleeping, and his hair looked dirty.

If he was there because he needed somewhere to sleep, Stiles was going to scream in frustration, sexual or otherwise.

“I already know that you didn’t catch the hunter. Chris took it upon himself to tell me. He also told me to stay away from your house, away from the woods, away from town unless I was accompanied by either my father or my police shadow outside.”

Derek nodded, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t seem particularly inclined to keep the conversation going, so Stiles shrugged and moved to sit in his computer chair, pulling his homework out.

“Why did you go to Chris instead of asking me?”

It wasn’t exactly a question that Stiles expected Derek to ask, so he shrugged again and chewed on the cap of his pen as he thought about it.

“He was the one setting up the trap, wasn’t he? Just seemed like a good idea.”

Which was only partially a lie and he really hoped Derek wouldn’t pick up on that. If he did, he didn’t comment on it directly.

“As part of this pack, the decision should have gone through me.”

It was the first time that Derek had acknowledged that Stiles was actually part of the pack. The other time he mentioned it, he’d simply called it a group. Tapping out a random few beats on his desk with his partially chewed pen, Stiles found himself feigning nonchalance on the topic.

“Since I’m not a wolf, I don’t really have to go through all of that.”

There was silence following that, which was never a good thing, so Stiles slowly turned his chair to face where Derek was standing. He was still there, hands clenched at his sides, eyes flashing the dangerous red that Stiles was growing to become too used to.

“Whether or not you’re a wolf is irrelevant. You’re pack, I’m the alpha. Things that affect the pack go through me, even with the humans.”

Derek’s voice was gravelly, taking on just an ounce of the alpha’s timbre that raised the hair on the back of Stiles’ neck.

“If I would have presented my idea to you, would you have let me go through with it?” He watched Derek for any signs that it was going to get violent. Carlos wouldn’t get into the bedroom in time if it did, but Stiles eyed the distance to his window just in case.

“No.”

There was no hesitation, no second thought. Even though it was probably unattractive, Stiles felt his jaw drop open. 

“Then why would you expect me to ask for permission? It worked. We got most of them. No one died.”

Moving forward, quiet and slow enough that Stiles would have had enough time to move away if he wanted to, Derek stopped just a few feet away from where Stiles was sitting.

“You got hurt. You put yourself in a position that you had no need to put yourself in, you got needlessly hurt, and you did this with no permission from me. You didn’t even consult me on it.”

Stiles rubbed a hand over his forehead and tried to force back the laugh that was bubbling in his throat.

“Did you miss the part where the psycho hunter guy had a knife to my throat and was telling me that if I told him the names of the rest of the pack, he’d let me go? Did you miss the part where I didn’t tell him anything? No, I didn’t ask you what you thought of the plan. I’ve learned my lesson. The next time I do something stupid and potentially life threatening, I’ll be sure to talk to you first. Because you’re such a good communicator about the important things.”

Stiles’ chest was heaving after his little rant, but Derek’s face was impassive as ever. Instead of being bothered by it, or showing that he was bothered by it, he spun around in his chair and faced his powered down computer. 

“What do you mean?” While he waited for the computer to boot up, Stiles cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

“You just ran away after you kissed me. I didn’t know if I did something wrong or if I was missing something. You were there, I thought we were both enjoying ourselves, and then you were gone.”

There was silence again and before Stiles could turn around, his chair spun harshly so that he was once again facing Derek. Derek, who was only about a foot away, was no longer shifting. His eyes were back to normal, only they were hardened in a way that Stiles had never seen before.

Stiles’ heart rate picked up, this time more from fear than arousal. Although there was probably some of that too.

“It was nothing that you did. I wanted to see how it would affect our bond.”

It took a moment for what he meant to make sense. When it did, Stiles found himself resting heavily against his chair.

“What?” His heart was starting to constrict painfully in his chest. Derek kept eye contact, not leaning back or moving forwards an inch.

“The pain stopped when we touched. I thought it couldn’t hurt.” 

There was a taste in his mouth, like bile. He had to swallow a few times before he could speak.

“So you kissed me to see how it would affect the bond.”

It wasn’t even a question because Derek had done everything but draw a picture for Stiles at this point. He needed to hear it confirmed though.

“Yes. And it’s gone. You can thank me now.”

Heart relocated somewhere around the soles of his shoes, Stiles moved without realizing what he was doing. There was a spark of pain down his arm and he looked up to see why. He’d used his casted arm to hit Derek across the face.

The cast was busted a little in the area it must have connected with Derek’s face. Derek’s face which was now bleeding at the bridge of his nose and his nostrils as well. 

If Derek wasn't a werewolf, if his bones weren’t so much stronger than a human’s, Stiles would chance a guess that he’d broken his nose. As it was, it might be broken, but it would heal itself and be like it never happened.

And although Stiles should be worried about the repercussions of his actions, he couldn’t force himself to care at this point.

Derek’s eyes flashed a dangerous red, but he moved no closer to Stiles, nor did he continue to shift. 

“Stiles--”

Stiles raised his cast, prepared to swing again.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” At first it didn’t seem like Derek would listen, but Stiles let his hand come back like he was going to hit him again and Derek sprung backwards. The busted skin on his nose was already starting to heal itself.

He watched Derek leave his bedroom, listened to hear him leave but didn’t hear anything. He knew he wouldn’t stay though, not after that.

Stiles stood up, moving his homework to the side of the desk before walking into the hallway and heading towards the bathroom. Once there, he leaned over the toilet and threw up.

\-----------

Stiles’ phone was ringing off the hook later in the evening, although he didn’t hear it at first. It took three missed calls, one voicemail and five missed texts for him to hear it over the sound of the television.

He fumbled with it as it rang again before he was able to accept the call.

“Lydia? Everything okay?” There was a moment of silence before she answered.

“I don’t know what’s going on Stiles. Can you come over?”

He went over to the window and peered out. Carlos was still on duty. He told Lydia he’d be there soon and went to his closet, changing out of his pajamas quickly. From there he got his shoes, grabbed his wallet and keys, and stomped down the stairs.

After double checking that he had everything, he went outside. Carlos was on his way, probably seeing him move around, and Stiles forced himself to smile innocently.

“Carlos, buddy. I need a ride to Lydia’s house.” Carlos raised an eyebrow at that.

“You do realize there is a mandatory curfew in effect, right?”

Stiles pretended to think about it, because he was a smartass, before nodding.

“And you can either take me to her house and keep me safe there, like you are supposed to, or I’ll be forced to sneak out. You know I will.”

Carlos didn’t even have to pretend to think about it.

“Get in.”

Stiles clapped him on the shoulder before pulling open the back door of the cruiser and sliding in. He could remember telling all of his friends and teachers about being in the back of a cop car when he was little. The novelty wore off when everyone realized his dad was on the force.

“Lydia Martin?” Stiles looked up at Carlos and nodded, settling back against the seat as they drove over. 

It was a clear night; no cloud cover and the perfect temperature. His eyes were drawn upwards towards the sky when he saw the moon. More importantly the fact that the moon was full.

Shit. He glanced at his phone to check the time before silently urging Carlos faster. They weren’t too far from Lydia’s, but if she was affected by the full moon…

When they pulled in, Stiles was out of the door after Carlos opened it, telling Carlos to stay in the car no matter what. He knocked on the front door, hoping that Lydia’s mom wasn’t home. His wish was granted when Lydia opened the door, looking ill.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling? Do you have a sudden urge to tear my head off and use it as a volleyball?”

Lydia’s eyes widened as she took in his speech. He had that effect on people.

“No more than usual.”

They shut the door once he stepped in, with him casting one quick glance to the cruiser to make sure that Carlos was in the car. Once satisfied, he followed Lydia into her bedroom where it looked like she’d been tossing and turning in her bed.

“What’s it feel like?” She was shaking, curling into a ball on the bed and grabbing hold of her ankles while she tried to contain whatever was going on.

“My whole body feels like it is on fire. It hurts, but I don’t… I would have changed by now if I was a werewolf, right?”

Stiles nodded, moving over to her laptop and gesturing to it, asking permission. She nodded and he opened it, shaking it awake. She mumbled her password and he typed it in, waiting for the desktop to come up.

The picture was her and Jackson, both smiling and looking carefree into the camera. It wasn’t a look either of them wore in public.

He started the internet, opening a few tabs and entering different things into each one. She was bitten but not turned, so why was she being affected now?

He wanted to call Derek and ask but one glance at his cast, the busted edge where it was tinged a little pink, reminded him why that wasn’t something he should do.

“Maybe you can just talk to me? It might distract me from the pain.”

His heart constricted, because he might not be in love with her but she was still important to him and he hated to think of her in pain. So he did what he did best; ramble.

Half of what he was saying wasn’t making sense, talking about the weather and sports and classes, but before he realized it, he was talking about something very real and very relevant.

“So do you remember how I told you that I had feelings for this guy and that he deserved me? Well I was wrong. He… I thought he felt the same way and he kissed me and then we didn’t talk, and you don’t just kiss a guy and not talk to him about it afterwards. Then he tells me that he was just… that he wanted to see something. And that it didn’t mean what I wanted it to mean.”

Lydia was still curled in a ball, but her eyes were on Stiles’ the entire time.

“Tell me who it was. He must not realize how great you are. I’ll tell him.”

Stiles laughed because while he often told himself and everyone else what a catch he was, he was well aware of what a catch he wasn’t.

“I don’t know. It might not be that he doesn’t like me. Maybe it’s the age thing? It could definitely be the age thing. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? Because the age thing is a big deal. Or maybe he really is just that… emotionless. Maybe he really is just a dick.”

When he stopped ranting, he noticed that Lydia was no longer curled tightly together, although she was still on her side. He wasn’t sure if it was passing or if she was just distracted.

“It’s Derek, isn’t it?”

Stiles opened his mouth to counter that but it was Derek, so instead he turned back to face the computer and scrolled down on a page he was sure he’d already read twice.

“I’m not finding anything on here. Maybe if you tell me your symptoms I can--”

The chair rolled around and Lydia was suddenly there, looking fierce and eyes flashing. What was it with people spinning him around in computer chairs today?

_Eyes flashing?!_

“Lydia, shit, you--” She slapped her hand over his mouth, which seemed to be common amongst the flashing eye crowd.

“If he doesn’t treat you right, he doesn’t deserve you.” Stiles blinked up at Lydia because he definitely didn’t expect that, but she didn’t let him dwell on it too long.

“And coming from someone who is good at reading people, I’m sure that he does have feelings for you. I don’t know why he pretended he didn’t, but I know that he must.”

Feelings of pity or apathy or sometimes frustration, but affection? Well maybe that was the telling part, that Derek called it arousal. While that was true, it was much more than that for Stiles. 

He reached up and pulled Lydia’s hand away from his mouth, because while he’d love to have this conversation and maybe ask why she said she was good at reading people and yet continuously forgot who he was until he became of use to her, he needed to address the important part now.

“Lydia, your eyes are glowing. Green.”

\-----------

Beta wolves were generally amber. There was the exception of Derek, who had said his eyes were blue because he was more likely to be an alpha. And then there were the red eyes of the alpha. Derek never mentioned green, never even said there were other colors. 

Lydia freaked out when she saw herself in the mirror, but Stiles calmed her down by helping her see that she wasn’t changing. Just her eyes.

“You aren’t sprouting fur or claws or teeth, are you? Okay, we can handle this. This is…” 

Stiles was at a loss of words for once. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he could do. Instead of dwelling on that, he focused on Lydia.

“Are there any changes? Super awesome hearing or sight or something?” Lydia seemed to think about it, her eyes widening more and more the longer she was quiet.

“I can hear… god, I can hear everything. I can hear your heartbeat, it sounds like a hummingbird’s. How much Adderol have you taken?” 

Stiles shook his head, because he actually hadn’t taken more than his prescribed dose recently, but Lydia was already moving on to the next topic.

“And I feel so strong, like I could lift up a vehicle. I won’t, but I could.”

She was pacing, probably with pent up energy, her body moving more like a cat’s than a bulky werewolf’s. 

“So you get all of the fun parts without the messy part?” She looked at her hands, still without fur and claws. 

“Stiles?” He looked at her and for the first time saw real fear. When she called him over, she sounded worried. Now she looked scared.

“It’s okay, it’s definitely going to be okay. We’ll get through tonight and then we’ll talk to Derek. He might not know what’s going on, but we’ll figure it out. I promise Lyds, we’ll figure this out.”

She reached out, wrapping one of her small hands around Stiles’ and squeezing lightly. She probably could break his fingers if she tried. Or if she didn’t try.

“I can ask him by myself. I’m sure you won’t want to be around him.” 

Stiles thought about how he felt after it happened, throwing up and feeling like he’d just been thrown out of a moving car. His cast was busted and there was a little blood staining it. He wondered how Derek would act around him the next time they saw each other.

“I can’t avoid him forever, right? Plus I can handle rejection fairly well. I’m still part of this pack, aren’t I?”

Was he? His stomach flipped again and he had to take deep breaths to combat his need to throw up again.

Lydia was at his side, placing her hand on his neck and smiling beatifically. 

“You are most definitely still part of this pack.”

\------------

It was almost three in the morning when Stiles’ phone started to ring, which he rushed to answer since Lydia was asleep next to him. He fumbled with the device for a second after answering before yawning a greeting into the receiver. 

“Stiles, where in the hell are you?” His dad’s voice sounded rough. That was a bad sign. Stiles slipped out of the bed, making sure he didn’t disturb Lydia, before slipping his shoes on. 

“I’m… shit dad. I’m sorry. I’ll be home soon.” He heard his dad sigh, but instead of yelling, he simply said he’d be waiting.

Stiles grabbed a sticky note and a pen from next to Lydia’s computer and wrote a quick note telling her that he had to go and if he wasn’t in school the next day it was because his dad murdered him.

He slipped out of her room and then out of the front door, locking it behind him. Carlos was in the cruiser, on the phone and looking guilty.

Probably getting an earful from the Sheriff.

When Stiles got in the car, Carlos didn’t even greet him. The drive was quiet but felt like it lasted for hours. They pulled into the house and both got out, making their way to the door still in silence. Finally Stiles had to break it.

“I’m sorry if I got you in trouble.” Carlos was a good guy, a good officer. He shrugged, trying to look positive but being just a little off.

“You’re my charge. If my choices were to aid you in breaking curfew or having you sneak off, I’m certain I picked the right one.”

The door was unlocked so they simply walked in, locking it behind them. Stiles’ dad was in the kitchen, hunched over the sink in a position Stiles had seen him many times. That was what he looked like when things got to be too much, when he was trying to collect himself.

“Dad?” He turned around, mouth pulled down in a frown. He nodded to Carlos before looking back at his son. Carlos waited a moment before clapping Stiles on the shoulder and leaving, locking the door behind him.

“Scale of one to ten, how in trouble am I?” He tried to use humor to defuse the situation. He thought it wasn’t going to work but his dad started to laugh, something that rarely happened when Stiles was in trouble.

Which seemed to be pretty often. 

“I’m actually surprised it took you this long to find a way around the curfew.”

And yeah, that’s right, his dad didn’t know about Stiles going into the woods with Chris Argent and the stand off with the hunter and Derek and then the stab wound.

Which didn’t hurt half as much anymore as it did before.

“I’m really sorry dad.” He nodded, his smile dropping a bit as he motioned for Stiles to sit at the kitchen table. 

It seemed it was time for a talk.

“Carlos told me that you went to the Martin girl’s house. And that her mom wasn’t home. I was under the impression that you had feelings for Hale. Son, I want you to know that I don’t forbid the relationship or anything. Not that that would mean anything to you.”

Stiles slumped in the chair because yeah, this was going to be awkward.

“Dad, it’s not like that.”

“No, let me finish. I understand that this is a time when you’re discovering your sexuality and there is nothing wrong with that. It’s normal. But there is something wrong with using a nice girl like Lydia, who has already been through a lot.” 

Stiles coughed out a laugh. Yeah, like he’d ever be able to use Lydia.

“Do you not even remember that I’ve been in love with her since elementary school?”

His dad stared at Stiles at that, trying to figure out what to make of this new information.

“I thought that was a crush.” He was just confusing his dad now, which was kind of fun but also kind of pointless.

“It was. She’s just a friend. I’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately and she really needed me tonight. I wouldn’t have gone unless I thought it was really important dad, you know that.”

Which was only almost a lie, so Stiles didn’t mind telling it.

“Okay, so you were in the house of a teenage girl without her parents there as friends? Well, it could be worse I guess. So what’s the deal with you and Hale?”

What was the deal? Derek kissed him to see if it would effect the connection. In turn, the connection disappeared. Which caused Stiles to use his cast as a weapon.

“Can we talk about that when I’ve had more sleep?”

His dad’s eyes narrowed and seemed to size him up before nodding.

“I’ll hold you to that.” They stood up, with his dad heading towards the kitchen again but Stiles stopped him.

They weren’t a very touchy family, but Stiles knew it was important, so he wrapped his arms around his dad’s waist and squeezed. It only took a second before his dad returned the hug.

“Thanks for everything dad.” He didn’t wait for his dad to question what that was for, simply trudged up the stairs to go to sleep. 

Stiles was going to have a long day tomorrow.

\------------

Lydia wasn’t in school the next morning, although she sent Stiles a text and told him she was fine. He tried to tiptoe around the subject with the others, but Scott seemed to sense he was hiding something and he and Jackson cornered him in the locker room after everyone else headed to the field.

“Don’t you think the two co-captains should possibly be on the field during practice?” Jackson pointed at the bench and Stiles sighed, accepting defeat and plopping down on the wood.

He should definitely be used to benches.

“You’ve been avoiding something today. Does it have anything to do with why Lydia isn’t in school?” Trust Jackson to get right to the heart of the problem.

“If you have questions about or for Lydia, maybe you should, I don’t know, talk to her?”

Jackson moved forward but Scott grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“We’re worried about her. It wasn’t until last night that we realized something was going on with her. All day she’d been weird and it was a full moon. Derek wanted to check up on her but with that hunter still on the loose, he didn’t want to take a chance.”

Stiles never thought he’d be thankful for the psychotic hunter that tried to kill him, but if it kept Derek from Lydia’s house last night, he was pretty thankful.

“I’m not sure how to explain it. I was going to have to talk to Derek about it anyways.” He’d been dreading the conversation since he got up to his room that morning. He barely slept thinking about it.

“Well we can all go to my house after practice and call him? So that we’re all up to speed.” Jackson was glaring between Scott and Stiles, as if threatening them to say no. Stiles knew when to give in.

“Fine. Can we go now?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised that practice felt like it lasted only half the time of a normal one. He was dreading the conversation with Derek, but at least it’d be over the phone. He texted Lydia and asked her to meet them at Jackson’s, but to maybe come after he’d already explained what was going on.

 _They might smell it on you or something._

She didn’t respond, but he hoped that meant she’d wait a little while. Danny drove Stiles, Hendricks driving the cruiser behind them the whole way. Scott had said that Allison would meet them there if she could get away from her dad long enough to get out of the house.

“So is this big?” Stiles glanced over at Danny who seemed more focused on driving than he’d been the lat time Stiles had ridden with him.

One glance into the mirror reminded Stiles of why that probably was.

“Yes. I think it is. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

At Jackson’s house, they all piled into his bedroom since his parents were downstairs. Allison showed up a few minutes after the rest of them, but when she asked if they should wait for Lydia, Stiles said they should go ahead.

After a moment’s hesitation, of everyone trying to figure out who should call him, Jackson nominated Stiles.

“Why does it have to be me?” Jackson rolled his eyes as if it was obvious.

“You’re the one that wants to talk to him.”

The word want might have been an exaggeration. He needed to do it for Lydia. He just wasn’t even sure Derek would answer his phone if Stiles called.

He dialed and waited, letting it ring through to the generic voicemail before he hung up. Everyone was watching him, as if he was performing some great feat. After taking a deep breath, urging his stomach to stop revolting against him, he dialed the number again.

This time Derek answered.

“What?” Stiles closed his eyes and hit speaker, putting it on the bed between the group of them.

“Listen, everyone is here. I’ve got something to share with you all.” There was a silence that Stiles took as a go ahead to continue talking.

“Last night, Lydia called me and asked me to come over. She was in pain and said it felt like her body was on fire? Something happened when Peter bit her, but we don’t know what it is. She has the super senses, she has the strength, but she doesn’t have the fur or claws or canines or urge to kill me under the full moon.”

Jackson looked murderous, Danny and Allison looked shocked, Scott looked guilty at that last bit, and Stiles waited to hear what Derek would say.

“She didn’t shift?” His voice was far away, almost absentminded. 

“No, but her eyes started to glow.” 

“What color?” Stiles could definitely see Lydia’s eyes turning blue. She had the potential for being an alpha. He knew that that was what Derek was asking. He wanted to know if there was a threat to his reign already.

“Green.”

Everyone looked confused, because they’d been present for Derek’s conversation about the colors of a werewolf’s eyes. He said that since there was now a werewolf presence in Beacon Hills again, a more commanding presence than just one or two, more might come to sniff things out. 

Other nearby packs for alliances or territory disputes, strays looking for a pack themselves, or even rogue alphas looking to claim a pack.

“I need to look into this. Stay together. Is Lydia there?”

“Just arrived.” Everyone turned to the door where Lydia was standing, less hunched in on herself than she would have been before the change.

Stiles briefly wondered if she would revert back to her arrogant self now, but it was answered as she sat next to him so that their knees were pressed together.

“Don’t go anywhere. It’ll be easier if I can just get the information to you in one go.”

He hung up without a goodbye, so Stiles hit end and stuck his phone in his jacket pocket, looking at Lydia and smiling.

“Sorry for running out last night. My dad called me.” She nodded and leaned against Stiles’ arm, eyes downcast even though both of them knew the entire group was watching them.

“I heard the conversation, but I thought I dreamt it. When I woke up and saw your note, I knew.”

Stiles cast a quick glance to confirm his suspicions that everyone was staring at them. Danny looked confused, Allison and Scott were sharing a smile as if they thought… oh god, they probably thought Stiles and Lydia were together. And Jackson was glaring at them as if they had done something to offend him.

Stiles was really going to have to tell him to man up and ask Lydia back out or get out of the territorial stage because it was getting tiring.

They stayed that way for a while, with Jackson and Danny running down and getting some drinks and snacks. By time they got, Stiles phone was ringing in his pocket. He checked it first, thinking it might be his dad, before confirming it was Derek and putting it on speaker again.

“Everyone still here.”

Derek barely waited for Stiles’ words to get out before he started to talk.

“A few of the journals confirm things like this happening before. Something in Lydia’s genetics battled the bite, changing it. My family always referred to it as a mutation, when someone wasn’t a full werewolf.”

Lydia looked offended at the term, but shrugged it off.

“What should I expect from it?” There was a few seconds of silence, the distant sound of papers rattling, before Derek’s voice came back.

“Your senses will be heightened the days before and after the full moon. For the rest of the month, you’ll still have the enhancements, but it won’t be quite as potent. You won’t shift and you won’t pass it on to your children.”

Lydia sagged against Stiles’ side, telling him that she’d been worried about something and Derek had soothed that worry. He wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her tightly. She turned her head and laughed into his shoulder.

“I guess that means no more sleepovers since I know that I won’t go crazy and kill anyone.” Stiles laughed as well.

“Oh, I’ll still sleepover if you ask really nice.” She jabbed her elbow into his side, making him squirm to get away from it.

“I thought for sure my mom would smell your cologne when she came in this morning. Forgot that I have heightened senses.” 

Stiles wrinkled his forehead in thought.

“I don’t wear cologne.” She sniffed at his neck, something he was used to from Derek but not from Lydia. Not from anyone else but Derek. 

“I guess it must be your soap. It’s all over my sheets.”

He could feel Jackson’s glare at that but he shrugged it off. It was completely platonic and if he couldn’t see that, it wasn’t Stiles’ fault.

“If it bothers you, just wash it.” Her voice dropped to a flirty purr that she usually reserved for… people who were not Stiles.

“What if I like it?”

Derek made a sound on the phone, before grunting that he had to go. The silence that came after he hung up was heavy, so Stiles covered it by grabbing his phone and putting it in his pocket. 

“I should probably get going. My dad is really not happy about me breaking the curfew last night.”

Lydia gave him a hug. He nodded to Danny, Scott and Allison as they didn’t look inclined to get off Jackson’s bed. Jackson stood up, offering to walk Stiles to the door.

Which was definitely suspicious and Stiles tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. 

“I know my way to the door, you know.”

When they got to the front door, Jackson’s parents no longer in sight, Jackson slammed Stiles’ back against the wall.

Again, it was something he’d gotten used to from Derek and not from anyone else.

“Dude, what the--” Jackson didn’t let him finish.

“Is there something going on between you and Lydia?” 

Stiles wanted to point out that she was just upstairs and now had super hearing too so she’d hear this little conversation, but instead he did what he told himself he should do.

“No, there’s not. We’re really good friends because I was there for her when she needed someone. You visited her in the hospital while she was in a coma but the moment she woke up, you pretended that it didn’t matter. That she didn’t matter. You might know when a human is lying, but I know when you’re lying too. Because you’re an idiot.”

Jackson slammed Stiles against the wall again, the pain of it jarring a pain in his side he’d almost forgotten.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Stiles sighed, struggling to get out of Jackson’s grip. When Jackson wouldn’t let go, Stiles spoke in the firmest voice he could manage, like he was training a dog.

“Let go of me.”

Jackson blinked and stepped back, looking down at his feet before looking back up at Stiles, eyes conflicted.

“If you still want her, go after her. Grovel and prove that you deserve her. Because right now, you don’t. And with a girl like her, you have to deserve her or you shouldn’t have her at all.”

With that pearl of wisdom, Stiles slipped out of the front door and down to the cruiser, sliding into the backseat and telling the officer to take him home.

“We need to make a detour.”

Stiles looked up from his phone and saw a face he barely got a good look at a few nights ago: the hunter. 

\-------------

The doors lock from the inside so that criminals can’t escape. It wasn’t something that Stiles thought he’d ever curse until he was locked in himself. He struggled with the handle even though he knew it wouldn’t open.

The hunter was driving down the road, at a speed that definitely would have drawn attention if he hadn’t also turned on the sirens. People wouldn’t notice the speeding cop car if it used its lights.

Shit.

He tried to use his phone but it beeped up at him. At first he thought the battery was dying, although that wasn’t likely because he always charged it at night, but then he noticed that it said no signal.

“Signal jamming is illegal, but handy, don’t you think?” Stiles had a few words about them but he held them in.

“What kind of herb or chemical did you use to disguise your scent that night?” The hunter made an impressed sound in the back of his throat.

“You are the clever one, aren’t you?”

The words made Stiles shiver because that’s what Peter Hale had called him. However the hunter didn’t answer, which made Stiles even more uncomfortable.

“If you’re going to threaten me to get the names of the other wolves, you’re wasting your time. I’m not talking.”

He made a show of crossing his arms and smacking his lips closed. The hunter shrugged, making an illegal turn down a one way street.

“I like that about you kid, I really do. Ordinarily I’d even be impressed, except it’s really counter productive. I could torture you for it. Even the strongest person will break under torture.”

Stiles thought back to what Allison and Scott had said about Derek being tortured, how he refused to give Scott up. He knew no matter what he said, he was going to be killed. Stiles knew it too. He really didn’t see the hunter leaving him alive after this. He wondered if the officer was okay until he remembered who it had been. Hendricks.

Hendricks had to work for the rogue hunters. Stiles was a little disgusted by how much sense that made.

“I’m not going to torture you though. Takes too long sometimes, even though you look like it wouldn’t take long. No, I’m just going to institute a trade. Your life for the wolves’.”

Stiles heart stopped for a few beats before it picked up the pace twice as much.

“What makes you think they’d risk themselves for me?” The hunter looked up, smiling in a way that would put Chris Argent to shame.

“You’re the alpha’s, aren’t you?” Stiles tried not to swallow his tongue.

“The alpha’s what? Daily annoyance? Occasional researcher? Random punching bag?” 

For the first time, the hunter looked unsure.

“You mean to tell me that you are not dating Derek Hale?” The feeling of his heart relocating to the soles of his shoes returned and Stiles pushed through it.

“No, I’m not dating Derek.” The hunter checked the rearview mirror a couple of times, his confidence visibly slipping.

“Not even just sleeping with him?” His stomach flipped at the thought, but now was definitely not the time so he shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts as well.

“No, not even just sleeping with him.” 

The hunter slammed on the breaks, making Stiles fly forward and smack his face on the chain partition between the back and the front of the car.

“Well then I guess you better hope you have some worth to the pack because otherwise, you’ll die and we’ll still go after them.”

Stiles let his head thunk against the back of the seat. He wondered if anyone even knew he was missing yet. 

\---------------

The last thing that Stiles expected when the hunter brought him into a small building, arms zip tied behind him, was to see other werewolves. He only knew what they were because they were shifted, eyes flashing at him. He saw multiple ambers and one blue, but no red. 

And no green, but he didn’t really expect any.

“That’s how you’ve gotten so good at hunting werewolves. You’ve got insider help.”

He wanted to yell at the wolves surrounding them that they were traitors, ask them if they knew what they were doing, but he bit his tongue. Literally and figuratively.

“So now all we have to do is get word to Hale that we have you. Like I said kid, you better hope you have some worth.”

He was plopped into a chair and pressed near the back wall so that he couldn’t escape. Not that he’d get far surrounded by these wolves.

One got a little too close for comfort, sniffing Stiles before frowning.

“He doesn’t smell like the alpha. He smells like betas though. And something else.” The something else was probably Lydia, but Stiles bit his tongue again. He wasn’t going to give anything away.

He wasn’t sure how they hoped to get word to Derek about his capture. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen once they did. He could play it like Derek would come in and save the day, slaughter them all for even thinking about messing with his pack, but the truth was, Stiles wasn’t really sure right then how it would go.

And no matter how angry he was with Derek, he still wanted to protect him, still had those annoying affectionate feelings that bordered dangerously on love.

He twisted his arm a little, feeling the busted part of the cast catch on the zip tie. He rotated it again, feeling it pull at his arm. If he moved too much, there was a high chance he’d dislocate his shoulder.

But he’d be able to get out of the zip tie cuffs.

He decided to wait until something happened, until he had a better grasp of a plan, before he went popping his arm out of place. 

While he tried to listen to the conversations going on around him, catching bits of information that they probably didn’t think he could make sense of as a simple human, Stiles started to feel a throb in his forehead. At first he thought it was stress, a headache from everything that was going on, but then the flash of pain went through him and he almost doubled over from the force.

The connection. His connection with Derek flared through him again, twice as heavy as ever before. His stomach felt like it was tearing in half, his eyes squeezed shut through the pain there and in his head. He could feel sweat sprouting all over, dripping down his forehead and joining the tears in his eyes.

A hand was on his shoulder, a voice harsh in his ear.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop!” It was the hunter, angry and probably thinking that Stiles was acting. It wasn’t until a werewolf said that Stiles’ heartbeat was climbing excessively that the hunter released his arm.

“Are you having a panic attack or something?”

It almost felt like one in the way that Stiles couldn’t breathe and he wasn’t sure if it was going to end or not, but he forced himself to think quickly.

“Food poisoning. Bad tacos I think.” He heaved a few times for show, even though he really did feel like he was about to throw up. Everyone moved away, wary that he was about to blow chunks.

It happened quickly after that. The pain subsided just enough to make Stiles think that Derek was nearby. He thought it was impossible, but then he heard a familiar growl and wow, he never thought he’d be happy to hear that sound. 

While everyone was distracted, not ready for an attack, Stiles wrenched his arm and screamed with the pain it caused. He felt the connection redouble, but he focused on Derek’s face in his mind’s eye, focused on the feel of him pressed against him in his bedroom, until the pain went away. His arm was out of the zip tie and he shrugged off the other one, jumping out of the chair and running towards the far corner away from the wolves and hunters.

“Three humans, five werewolves!” He knew that Derek would hear him, wasn’t sure if knowing the number of people in the room was going to help, but he had to do something.

Everything after that was a blur. Derek burst through the door, Scott and Jackson on his heels. They were all shifted, but Stiles noticed all of them glance in his direction before rushing to the fight.

Scott and Jackson were both too new, too untrained to be fighting what were obviously older and more experienced wolves. Stiles was a little shocked that it was only the three of them when Allison followed them through the door, bow drawn and arrows notched. Behind her stood Chris Argent, automatic gun slung across his back and pointing a crossbow with one hand and a small handgun in the other.

At Allison’s urging, Stiles kept to the walls but made his way over to the door, only once almost getting attacked by a werewolf. An arrow went through the werewolf’s back, causing him to shift back to human form from the pain. Seeing that, Stiles ran towards the door and then let Allison escort them to the Argent’s vehicle. 

“Get in.” He could barely move, the momentarily forgotten pain of his dislocated shoulder throbbing back to existence. He couldn’t draw attention to it, couldn’t move. If the pain sparked up again, it would make the connection flare and Derek needed his full attention on what he was doing.

Brief flares of pain went through him, meaning that Derek was getting hit or scratched. He kept his thoughts on Derek’s face, the feel of his hand against the back of his neck as they kissed, how he had been surprisingly gentle as he deepened it. He focused on that as he climbed into the car, Allison quick to shut the door behind him, standing guard. Danny was in the driver’s seat, Lydia in the passenger seat. There had to be another car somewhere because Stiles couldn’t see all seven of them riding there in one.

His arm was jostled as he sat down, causing him to lose focus on his previous train of thought of Derek’s hands and mouth, but he quickly clenched his eyes and remembered Derek telling him that he was an important part of the group, the way he made him feel, the pride that Derek sometimes showed whenever Stiles did something impressive.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed that way before someone was there shaking his shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. His eyes opened, scrambling to get back to his thoughts to ease the pain and the connection, but he saw Derek staring at him and the pain flooded out. He had cuts along his stomach, arms and face, but they were healing. He was also wearing a pair of sweatpants which were torn, so he must have shifted in them. 

They covered the important bits, which was either a relief or disappointing. Stiles wasn’t entirely sure.

He wanted to mention that the connection was back, but there were others surrounding them. No one knew about the connection, not even Scott, although Scott at least knew about the headaches. 

Instead Derek started to look Stiles over, stopping when Stiles leaned out of his touch and hissing at the pain in his shoulder.

“It’s dislocated.” Derek eyed it, placing his hand lightly on Stiles’ bicep. 

Oh god, he was going to put it back in place himself.

“This is going to hurt.” Stiles took in a deep breath through his mouth, trying not to imagine the pain that was going to come with it.

“I can handle the pain.” A look passed over Derek’s face at that, his jaw clenching briefly before he nodded and looked at his arm again.

“On the count of three.” Stiles turned his head, breathing in quick bursts. Derek called one, but when Stiles expected him to say three, his arm erupted in pain as Derek snapped in into place.

A sharp pain started in his temple but he reached out automatically and grabbed hold of Derek’s wrist, stopping the pain before it could blossom completely.

He was going to rethink all of this once he was home and no long in mortal danger, but for now he simply held onto Derek’s wrist and concentrated on the lack of pain. He could handle everything later if he could just have this for a moment.

\------------

They went to Derek’s house first, everyone piling out of the two cars and piling into the living room. Chris Argent looked uncomfortable, even more uncomfortable with how comfortable Allison looked plopping on the couch between Scott and Jackson, but he bit his tongue.

Stiles tried to sit on the floor but Jackson got up, nodding for him to take the cushion between Allison and Lydia. He nodded his thanks, sitting gingerly between the girls. He did feel some sort of triumph as they both started to focus their attentions on him, asking if he felt okay or if he needed anything. Derek and Chris stepped onto the porch to talk, leaving Stiles with the pack.

He took that time to find out what happened, from his capture to their leaving the rundown building the hunters had been holding him in. Danny started the story.

“I just happened to be looking out of the window when the cop car was pulling out. I saw you fighting with the handle. It looked suspicious so I told Jackson and them.” Lydia took over from there.

“We called Derek, told him what Danny saw, and he came over. I knew something was up when that happened because he had been so sure not to see any of us since the hunter got away. Allison’s dad had called him and said that the hunter had been spotted in town. Derek was sure that there was going to be an ambush.”

Scott interrupted her before she got the final word out.

“While we were trying to figure out where to start, because your scent… dude, it disappeared. Usually you can at least follow it a little ways from a car, but it was gone. Derek said it was like the night in the woods, he didn’t understand it. So we were trying to figure it out and Derek started like, seizing or something.”

Lydia shot Scott a glare for interrupting her and took over once more.

“He was having a fit, holding his head and everything. Then he sat up called Chris, told him to bring his stuff and meet us just on the edge of town.”

Jackson came in with the next part.

“Once we got there, Derek was almost unable to control himself. He half shifted in the car. We could all smell your fear but we could also there were a lot more in the building than just you and the hunter. You might have saved us by yelling out what was going on like you did. Good thinking.”

Stiles eyed Jackson because he just offered him a compliment and that was new. However he ignored it in favor of asking the next question, the one that had been bothering him since he saw Derek in the car, only he’d been too distracted to ask.

“What happened with the fight?”

Scott and Jackson exchanged a look, as if having a quiet talk amongst themselves. 

“They’re dead. All of the wolves, all of the hunters.”

Stiles knew they weren’t saying something, that they were leaving something vaguely important out of the story, but before he could ask, Derek and Chris came back in.

“We’ve got to get you home. Apparently an officer Hendricks turned himself in to your father for accepting a bribe to leave his cruiser unattended. He’s facing charges for assisted kidnapping.”

Feeling his shoulders hunch in, Stiles fought back a groan. His dad was going to be completely impossible now that he thought Stiles had been kidnapped.

“Are they looking for me?” Chris nodded, helping Stiles stand up and ushered him towards the door. Derek stood off to the side, watching Stiles’ every move but not making any effort to say anything. 

It was like nothing changed. 

“I’ll fill you in on our story on the way back to town. Let’s go.”

The three of them, the two Argents and Stiles, walked to the car. As Stiles started to climb in, he saw the rest of the pack on the porch watching him. He was beyond happy that they cared about him, but at the same time he was frustrated that he was always the one in danger.

Now there were three werewolves, one almost wolf and one badass archer. That left Danny and Stiles as the token humans, only Danny didn’t go through half the shit that Stiles did.

As they sped off, Stiles found himself wondering if things were always going to be like this.

\-------------

“So let me see if I got this right. You get into the car, notice it isn’t your detail. He drives off into the woods with you, ties you up and leaves you there. You dislocate your shoulder and are able to escape where you run into Mr. Argent and his daughter on their way back to town?”

Stiles was slumped against the kitchen table, both Chris and Allison standing just a little ways away. Chris had drilled the story into Stiles on the drive to the Stilinski house where thankfully the Sheriff was before heading back out with the search party.

“Yes.” His dad looked like he had been through hell and Stiles couldn’t help the guilt that welled up at the thought of everything he’d put him through lately. Not only what he put him through but all of the lies.

“What about the guy that took you? Did you see his face, recognize him at all?” Stiles shook his head. From what Stiles knew, it didn’t matter if he did recognize him. He was dead.

“What about hair color, eye color, height, weight? Come on Stiles, I taught you all of this before. Anything you remember about the ride to where he took you? Anything that can help us find him?”

Bracing himself for more lies, Stiles shook his head again.

“Average height, average build, brown hair maybe. I was a little distracted on the drive and I was just focused on getting the hell out of there when I escaped.”

His dad sighed, passing a hand over his face before nodding.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll let the search party know to look towards the woods at least. I’m going to up your detail, and I won’t let any of the officers near you unless I know for certain that they are clean. I thought something was up with Hendricks when he asked for the detail today.”

Stiles slumped in his seat. His detail was going to be upped but for no reason, although he couldn’t tell his dad that. How long would it be before his dad declared him safe without someone in custody?

After thanking Chris again for bringing him in, Stiles’ dad escorted him and Allison out of the house. There were news cameras outside of the house, but Stiles had already made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to talk to them. He was starting up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to just go to sleep, but was stopped by his dad’s voice.

“I’m sorry Stiles. I’m supposed to keep you safe. I vetted that guy, even though I thought something was off with him.”

Stiles shook his head, heading back the stairs and grabbing his dad’s shoulder, forcing them face to face.

“This is not your fault dad. Don’t blame yourself for the actions of some psycho.”

His dad stared at him for a long while, a tired smile coming over his face after a few moments.

“When did you get so mature Stiles?”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile at that, wrapping his dad in a loose hug because his arm still hurt.

“I had a pretty good role model.”

He felt his dad relax, more like slump, in his arms and he forced himself to tighten his grip. He couldn’t imagine what his dad had been going through, the pain and fear of losing him. 

His dad hadn’t handled losing his wife very well, only pulling himself out of the depression because he had to take care of his son. Stiles was all he had now.

\--------------

When he finally made it to his room, Stiles wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed. Instead he found himself staring at his computer chair where Derek was perched, wearing actual clothes and not just torn sweatpants.

“I was going to call you, you didn’t need to come all this way just for a thank you.” Derek shook his head but didn’t move, didn’t say anything. And while usually Stiles could handle his moods, he was too tired to deal with it tonight.

“I don’t know if you’re here for recognition or a thank you or if you want to yell at me for always getting in trouble, but can you do it now so that I can go to sleep? I’ve had a hell of a day.”

Derek stood up, crossing the room in only a few strides. Not meaning to, Stiles backed up against the wall and tried to force himself not to be afraid of Derek. After all, he wouldn’t have saved his life just to kill him later.

Unless he only saved Stiles because he wanted to kill him himself.

“I could feel your fear, feel your determination not to show it. I knew how to find you even though you were miles away. The connection came back because I was trying to find you, was tormented trying to find you before something happened.”

He thought back to Derek saying that maybe the connection also flared from emotional turmoil, remembered his lack of a response when Stiles had casually asked if Derek had been in any emotional turmoil during their episodes before.

“You found me. With or without the help of the connection, it doesn’t matter. You found me, saved the day. Thank you.” Derek shook his head, stepping just a little closer to Stiles until their bodies were separated by mere inches. 

Stiles was fighting with himself because he wanted to tell Derek to leave, couldn’t help replay what happened the last time Derek was in the room with him, but he also wanted to pull Derek closer, remembering what happened the last time they were in this particular position. 

“I heard Scott tell you that they were all dead. He didn’t tell you that I killed the one that took you, the one that put that stabbed you. I tore his throat out, I made him suffer for it.”

Stiles couldn’t help the little gasp that came out of his mouth, Derek’s eyes flashing red with his anger as he spoke. At the sound, his eyes went back to green and his eyes strayed to Stiles’ mouth.

“How did you battle the pain?” Stiles remembered mentioning to Derek before that he thought of him to battle the pain. Then he remembered just what he’d been thinking of to battle the pain this time and he could feel his cheeks redden.

“You. I thought about you.” 

Derek’s eyes snapped up to lock on with Stiles, forcing a sharp intake of breath from him at the intensity he saw there.

“What about me?” 

He wanted to tell him, say that he thought of their kiss and how he made him feel and just everything that was Derek, but more than that, he wanted not to get hurt again.

“No. You don’t get to do this. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want no part of it. You need to stop fucking with my emotions Derek, I’m not kidding. I can’t take it anymore.”

He pushed Derek back, surprised when he moved, but then Derek was pushing him backwards. Derek's hand flew up behind his head so that it wouldn’t smack against the wall, but he left it there afterwards. His other hand rested on Stiles’ hip, thumb pressing just hard enough into his hip bone that Stiles thought there might be a print there later.

His own hands were fisted in Derek’s shirt, not pulling him closer but not pushing him away either. He wanted this, no matter if it was temporary or some game. He was tempted to let it happen either way.

“It’s not a game to me. You’re not a game to me.” Stiles shook his head, turning to look away from Derek’s gaze.

“You kissed me and then you said it meant nothing, now you’re… I don’t know what you’re doing. I can’t do this Derek, please.”

When he looked back, he only had a second before Derek’s mouth came to his. He wanted to push him away, wanted to tell him that that was the opposite of what he wanted, but it was a lie. Instead he used the grip he already had in his shirt to pull him closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

However before he could, Derek pulled back. Stiles opened his mouth, ready to call him every name in the book because _this_ was what he’d been talking about, but Derek shook his head, freeing his hand from behind Stiles’ head and pressing his finger to his lips.

“I need you to listen to me right now Stiles. Can you do that?” Stiles nodded, licking his lips as Derek removed his finger. Derek's eyes traced the movement before he looked back up, eyes once again locking with Stiles’.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to know what it would do for the connection, but I wasn’t telling the truth either. I wanted to kiss you. I want you. You have to understand, I was prepared for a life alone after everything that happened. I didn’t want to suck you into all of this, force you into this position. I still don’t want to. But I want you. In ways I never understood before.”

Stiles’ heart was thudding painfully, causing his chest to ache. He wondered if Derek could tell…

“Don’t you think it was my choice? That if I didn’t want you, I would have told you?” Derek let his head fall, resting his forehead against Stiles’ collarbone.

“I’m damaged. I’m not good for you.” Stiles shook his head, dislodging Derek’s head and forcing him to meet his eyes again. He tightened his grip in Derek’s shirt, keeping him close.

“You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

Derek watched him for a moment, eyes fluttering shut as he took in a few deep breaths. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his head. Instead of asking, be bent forward and pressed his lips lightly to Derek’s throat. It was a position that the alpha usually wouldn’t put himself in. He grew up being wary of people at his throat, but he knew that Stiles wasn’t going to bite him. 

Or if he did bite him, it wouldn’t bring anything but pleasure. 

“After you left my house tonight, after everyone but Lydia left, she told me that I deserved you.”

Stiles felt his cheeks redden again, reminding himself to either thank Lydia or strangle her. Depending on how the rest of the night went.

“She might have known about my feelings for you for a while now. And she might have some inkling of what’s been going on between us. Not the connection, just the… kiss and the aftermath.” 

There was the tiniest upturn to Derek’s lips at Stiles discomfort at disclosing that information.

“Did you tell her or did she guess?” Stiles shrugged, because it had definitely been a little of both. 

Mostly him telling, but she did say she was good at reading people.

“Is she right? Do I deserve you?” Derek leaned forward, breathing lightly on Stiles’ lips before lowering his head, trailing his lips up the tendon in Stiles’ neck.

“Not if you’re not going to play fairly.” He could feel Derek’s smile against his neck but he pulled back, making a show of keeping his face a few inches away. Their bodies were pressed against one another though, so it kind of defeated the purpose.

“If you still want me, I’m yours.” Stiles blinked at that because of course he still wanted Derek. But this was Derek being almost careless with putting himself on the line. 

“What changed your mind?” Derek lowered his eyes, staring off to the side before speaking, his voice low.

“I still have misgivings about this Stiles. I still think you deserve more, still think you will change your mind once you realize how messed up I really am, once you see how it will be with me. I still am not sure how I feel with the age difference. Not sure how I’ll feel about people knowing. Don’t want to put you in danger, and you will be. More than you have been.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how much more danger he could be in, but he didn’t say anything.

“That’s the point of a relationship. We’ll figure this all out as we come to it.”

Derek nodded, raising one hand and trailing it over Stiles’ neck. There weren’t any bruises from the rogue hunter choking him, but there was a barely healed scab from the light cut the knife had given him.

“You keep almost dying because of me. I don’t want anything to happen to you without you knowing how I feel about you.”

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat at that. Derek wasn’t just being uncharacteristically sweet, he was affected by Stiles’ near death experiences as much as Stiles had been. 

That in mind, Stiles leaned forward an initiated the second kiss of the night. He kept it soft and sweet, if maybe a bit dry, waiting to see how Derek would react. It only took a brief moment before Derek started to respond, his head tilting and the hand on his neck urging upwards, fingers under Stiles’ chin to angle his head to make the kiss easier.

One of Stiles hands reached up, carding through Derek’s hair before tangling there, tightening his grip at the same time as he bit down on Derek’s lip. It was like a dam was released, Derek letting out a groan and using Stiles’ answering gasp to slip his tongue between their mouths, coaxing Stiles’ tongue into action. 

The kiss was wet, warm, deep and thrilling in ways Stiles never imagined. He scrambled for a better purchase against the wall, trying to angle not only their mouths to slot together but their hips too, but Derek kept his hand firm on his hip. The noise that Stiles made was a whine, but he didn’t care.

His shame left about the same time that his lips touched Derek’s.

Derek pulled back, slightly out of breath and barely able to keep Stiles from chasing his lips.

“No, come on, don’t stop.” He just got this, he didn’t want to lose it already. Derek huffed out a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back again.

“Stiles, the only way I’m doing this with you is slow.” 

Stiles groaned, letting his head thunk against the wall again. He understood it, respected it even, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Slow. Okay, I can do slow.” And he could. It was going to be a struggle, now that he knew he not only could have this but could have it whenever he wanted to, but he was willing to do it.

Ultimately he knew neither him nor Derek were ready for much more than that anyways.

“Okay. I have to go, because I can hear your dad about to come upstairs.”

Stiles nodded, stealing one more quick kiss before pushing Derek away, very aware that he would probably be unable to let him go if they stayed that way much longer.

“And uh we can… we don’t have to tell the others about this just yet. Not until we’re both comfortable with it. Is that okay with you?” 

Derek was halfway to the window when Stiles said that and he could see the relief on the werewolf’s face, smiled as he moved over to join him at the window. The news trucks were gone but there were two cruisers parked outside. Thankfully the view was partially hidden by a tree, else the cops might see a grown man climbing out of Stiles’ bedroom window.

Derek surged back in, one hand hooking behind Stiles’ neck to pull him in for one last kiss. He was going to have irritation all over his face from Derek’s stubble. Before the kiss could get heated, which it definitely was bound to by the amount of tongue involved, Stiles pulled back and watched Derek climb out of his window.

Tonight was definitely one of the weirdest best nights of Stiles entire life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scene of a sexual nature in this chapter.
> 
> Please read the note at the end of this story. It will have the details for the sequel as well as the character oneshots. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented, kudosed, bookmarked, or simply read this story. The response has been overwhelming and amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

If Stiles thought it was hard hiding his complicated relationship with Derek from the rest of the pack before, it was damn near impossible once they were dating. Which was not a word he would ever actually use to Derek’s face because he couldn’t see the older man dating anyone. Especially not himself.

But they were; they were dating. The thought sent chills up his spine because they were not only dating, but dating in secret. It was like a damn movie or something.

Lydia was the first one to notice, but when she pressed him for information, he simply asked her to drop it and she did. He was surprised it was that easy, but when he saw her smirk later, he imagined that it was only easy because she already knew.

Reading people my ass, he thought. 

Jackson was the only one to get it confirmed, although the others probably had their suspicions. Three weeks after the night in Stiles’ bedroom, Jackson came knocking on the Stilinski’s door, causing Derek to nearly fall off of the couch where he’d been sitting. 

It was strange to see Derek caught off guard, but he was so much different when he was with Stiles than when he was with everyone else. He dropped his walls when he was with Stiles.

So Stiles tried to hide Derek, but Jackson was not only a werewolf, but he was Derek’s beta and therefore knew his alpha’s smell. He narrowed his eyes at Stiles when he refused to open the door all the way before he simply pushed it open.

Stiles waved to the cop parked outside, since his dad still hadn’t called off the detail, before shutting the door behind them. Jackson and Derek were looking at one another, Derek looking a bit like a caged animal and Jackson looking a bit freaked out.

“I knew it; I knew something was going on between you two! I’ve smelt Derek on you so many times; I thought I was going crazy. How long has this been going on?”

Taking a moment to collect himself, Stiles could actually watch Derek pull the wolf over him like a suit of armor. His face hardened and he looked exactly like every time Stiles was around him and the rest of the pack.

“A couple of weeks.” Jackson looked between the two of them, as if mentally doing the math, before nodding. He must have decided that it evened out with however long he’d been smelling Derek on Stiles.

Which Stiles really wanted to ask Derek about because that was… weird.

“Does Scott suspect anything?” That was Derek, ever the cautious one. Jackson scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like he can see anything beyond his own problems.” He and Allison had been having a strange few weeks, although Scott hadn’t come to Stiles to talk about it. Stiles kind of wondered why, but then he realized that he spends most of his time with either Derek or Lydia, sometimes with Danny. 

He might have been the shitty friend lately. Dating was kind of a disaster and he might finally forgive Scott for being as unobservant as he’d been when he first started dating Allison.

“So even though I apparently smell of eau de werewolf, Scott hasn’t noticed? Not sure if that’s good or kind of insulting.”

Stiles saw the corner of Derek’s mouth turn up before his mask dropped again, blank faced as usual. Jackson was quick to preen though.

“I’ve been working on my senses a lot more than McCall has been. He’s so caught up with Allison he doesn’t even train right anymore.”

That was news to Stiles, but apparently not to Derek who nodded.

“I’ll have a talk with him. If that’s all…?” Derek jerked his chin at the door and Jackson’s eyes widened before nodding, nearly skittering towards the door.

“I uh, okay. I won’t mention it either. Just know that it’s probably not long before Scott gets his head out of his ass and realizes what’s going on.”

As Jackson left, Stiles thought that it was kind of weird that he didn’t mention Lydia finding out, but then Stiles thought about it some more and figured that was probably true to form. Lydia seemed to know everything before anyone else did.

He’d think it was part of the werewolf superpowers if he didn’t know she’d been like that before she’d been bitten.

Stiles slumped onto the couch next to Derek, watching as he let his walls down and fold against Stiles once more. He was glad that the older man could let loose around him, he just wished he wouldn’t feel the need to keep up the act when they were with the pack.

They didn’t have to skywrite their relationship, but maybe Derek could loosen up a bit. Just a bit. If he loosened up too much, the pack might actually have a collective heart attack.

“By the way, your dad should be lifting the detail soon.” Stiles looked over at Derek, eyebrows furrowed because they hadn’t even mentioned the constant shadow. They only ever hung out at Stiles’ house, only ever for a few hours at a time, and only ever a couple of times a week.

It was kind of annoying really.

“Why is that?” The look that passed over Derek’s face was cornered, before he seemed to swallow his pride and speak.

“Because they found the hunter’s body in the woods a few days ago. They’ve been doing DNA tests to find out who he is and comparing it to some collected from your clothes.”

Stiles’ jaw fell open, eyes wide and feeling a little hurt at being left out of the loop.

“Were you planning on telling me any of this?” Derek shrugged a bit, hooking his arm around Stiles’ shoulders as he did so.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Stiles laughed, nestling into Derek’s arm and turning his face into Derek’s neck.

“Well I’m surprised.” They had about another hour before the Sheriff got home, so Stiles decided not to waste that time talking about things he couldn’t change.

With a wicked glint in his eye, he tossed his leg over Derek’s lap and moved to straddle him, laughing as Derek’s hands skimmed up his sides, tickling over the scar on his side. He moved his arms around his neck, careful not to hit him with his cast, before leaning down and claiming Derek’s mouth with his own.

He’d gotten really good at the whole kissing gig in the past three weeks.

\------------

There was only about a month left of school, meaning only about two weeks left before Stiles got his cast off. He still wouldn’t be able to play lacrosse until the next year, having to rebuild the strength in his arm before he could do anything with it.

“You know the best way to build strength in your arm?” Stiles opened one eye to peer over to where Danny was propped against a nearby tree. The cruisers were no longer following Stiles, since the body of the hunter had been found and IDed and Beacon Hills declared safe once again. 

Stiles had celebrated that by bribing Jackson into taking him to Derek’s to surprise him. Jackson hadn’t been very impressed with basically being a chauffer for a booty call.

“If you say masturbation, I’m going to throw something at you. Something heavy. Like this chemistry book.” Danny laughed, flipping through the pages of his own book and shaking his head. 

“No, I was going to say carrying books. The library where I work is going to be hiring some summer workers, if you’re interested.” 

He’d been thinking about getting a job so that he could buy a new car. He’d told his dad not to go through the trouble, since they still had bills and things to pay. And when Derek had offered to help Stiles buy one, even hinted at maybe letting Stiles have his car, there had been a mild domestic dispute that started with Stiles throwing a book and ended with Derek on top of Stiles and the both of them trying really hard to remember that they were taking things slow.

That happened a lot with them these days.

“Get me an application. But be warned, I’m putting you down as a reference so if I fuck up, it’s on you.”

With another laugh, Danny looked back down at his book. They lapsed into silence, listening to the sounds of the woods around them. Scott would be there soon after he finished whatever he was doing with Allison. She’d been invited, but she had something with her mom, so she had to decline.

“I’m thinking about asking Derek to bite me.”

Stiles started to cough, having to roll over on his stomach so that he didn’t choke on his spit.

“Warn a guy next time.” He was expecting Danny to laugh again, but his face was oddly serious. Stiles sat up to face him fully.

“Are you serious?” Danny shrugged, running his fingers over the edges of the pages in his text book, obviously no longer paying attention to their homework.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you told me, to be honest. Jackson wasn’t happy when I mentioned it to him a few weeks ago.”

Whether because he didn’t want more competition or for an actual selfless reason, Stiles wasn’t sure. Instead of wondering on Jackson’s motives, Stiles thought about it logically.

“Your life will be different. You’ll never have a normal life after it. It kind of defines you. I mean, Scott’s dating a hunter’s daughter, Jackson and Lydia are both vaguely wolfy and have been circling each other like vultures for weeks. Your dating pool will shrink extensively. You’ll smell like a wet dog when it rains.”

At that, Danny laughed and shut his text book, curling his leg up and looking at Stiles head on.

“What about you? Your human, you‘re not exactly dating a member of the pack although I have serious suspicions about you and Derek. Don’t you think about getting the bite so that you have more in common with them?”

Stiles coughed, overlooking the comment about suspicions and instead focused on the question.

In fact Stiles had been giving it serious thought ever since he and Derek started seeing each other. He wanted to be something for Derek, but whenever he thought to bring it up to him, it never seemed the right time.

Plus, he wasn’t sure he really wanted it for himself and he refused to do it for someone else. The only cure was to kill the one that bit you and Stiles would never do that, so there would be no going back if he decided to go through with it.

If Derek would even bite him in the first place. He was always absurdly careful when teeth got involved while making out. He even went so far as instating safe word.

It sort of became a Pavlovian response whenever Stiles heard the word kiwi to get mildly aroused.

“I’ve thought about it, but I don’t want to do it just so that I fit in. I’m totally okay with being human and annoying and super smart, I don’t need all the extra that comes with it. But listen, if you’re really serious about it, maybe you should talk to Derek about it?”

Danny looked a little hesitant at the thought, but he nodded.

“Guess it can’t hurt, can it?” Stiles laughed, leaning back down.

“I don’t know, from what Scott and Jackson told me, it hurts like a bitch.”

\-------------

Stiles should have known that things were too easy. He wasn’t in danger, he didn’t have cops following his every move anymore, he was able to spend time with his boyfr-- with Derek without interruption. 

His dad hadn’t grilled him on where he spent his time or how his grades were. His dad was really laid back about everything. However he wasn’t too surprised when he came back from hanging out with Derek to find his dad sitting at the table waiting for him.

“Sit.” 

Stiles complied, trying not to look guilty in any way. He knew what was coming, or at least could imagine.

“I got a call from one of the officers. He was driving past the Hale house today and guess what he saw? A certain young man and a certain teenager necking on the porch.”

They hadn’t been necking; they’d been full out making out and groping each other in a way that was obscene and perfect. It was further than they’d gotten before and it had been amazing. Stiles wasn’t going to regret it, even if it got him in trouble.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” 

Stiles sighed, rubbing his hand over his neck (trying not to react visibly when his fingers skimmed over a hicky hidden by the collar of his jacket).

“It was me.” His dad simply stared at him, as if expecting Stiles to add more to that. When he didn't, he got up and moved to the liquor cabinet and poured two small shots of whisky.

He handed one to Stiles and waited for him to raise it before downing his own. Stiles looked between his dad and the shot before taking it quickly, not about to ask any questions.

His dad looked a little surprised when Stiles didn’t even flinch at the burn of it, then he looked downright suspicious.

“The last time we talked, you were saying he didn’t return the feelings. Now you’re making out with him at his house, alone mind you, and you didn’t even think to talk to me about it?”

Which probably hadn’t been the best plan, but it wasn’t something Stiles could change now.

“I’m sorry dad. I should have talked to you about it, I’m sorry that I didn’t. But I didn’t think you’d approve and I didn’t want to take the chance of you not being as accepting as you had been pretending to be when it was just in theory.”

His dad looked sheepish at that, as if he’d been caught, and Stiles felt his mouth fall open.

“You really weren’t alright with it, were you? Are you?”

“How do you think I should feel son? I don’t mind that he’s a guy; you’re my son no matter what. But he’s a lot older than you, he’s probably experienced, he’s got a lot of baggage. You’re my son, I’m just thinking about what is in your best interest.”

Stiles stood up, swaying a bit because that whisky had been a little stronger than expected.

“Why can’t people let me figure out what is in my best interest for myself? The age difference is a big deal, I get that. As for experience, we both decided to go slow and not cross any boundaries that we aren’t completely comfortable with. And baggage dad? Aren’t you always the one that says you have to look past the skeletons in a person’s closet?”

Granted that had usually been in theory. Derek had some actual skeletons in his closet.

Not an actual closet, although he did live in a house where his entire family died. 

“Who else has been making decisions for you?” That caused Stiles to slump back in the chair. They hadn’t exactly talked about it since it happened, although it still hung between him and Derek.

“Derek. He basically tried to break my heart so that I wouldn’t want to be with him for much the same reasons you just listed. And you know what, I almost let him, but I won’t let it happen again. I really like him dad, he makes me happy.”

Stiles watched his dad’s face, waiting for whatever reaction that would bring. He watched as the resignation settled in.

“Invite him to dinner sometime this week. I want to meet him properly, without handcuffs being involved.”

With a surprised yelp, Stiles nodded and lunged across the table to hug his dad.

“Thank you!” His dad narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet. I have a box of baby pictures and I know how to use them. Now go grab the telephone so we can cook dinner.”

\-------------

Scott was absolutely miserable, much like he’d been the first time Allison had broken up with him. And this wasn’t so much as them being broken up as it was a break. He was splayed out on Stiles’ bed, moaning about how much he missed her and how she wouldn’t answer his calls.

“Dude, she said you needed a break. That means you don’t call her. You actually take a break from one another.” 

Turning to glare at him, Scott rolled so that he was sitting up on the bed.

“Whose side are you on here?” Unable to stop himself, Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I’m not picking sides, idiot, but if she says she needs a break, don’t you think you should give it to her?” 

Scott stood up, wrestling his book bag off the chair he’d thrown it on when he’d come into the room.

“That’s great advice from my so called best friend.” 

Stiles felt the irritation he’d been feeling at Scott for months reach the top, slowly start to boil over. While Scott stomped down the stairs, the definition of a sulking puppy, Stiles jumped off his computer chair and rushed towards the stairs himself.

“Are you kidding me? I’m a so called best friend because I’m telling you to allow Allison her space because I think if you give it to her, you two will be stronger? I’m a bad friend for being there for you through you being bitten, through you being an asshole, through you forgetting about me, your simple human friend?”

Scott turned around on the stairs; eyes narrowed and mouth open to retort.

“No, screw you Scott, okay? Because I’ve stood by you even when you were an unmitigated asshole. I’ve defended you, I’ve lied for you, I’ve put myself in danger because you were my friend and I was trying to help you! So you don’t get to call me a so called best friend when that’s been your title for months!”

At that, Stiles stormed back into his bedroom and slammed the door. He thought it was over, that Scott would leave and when they calmed down, they’d talk about it, but his bedroom door flew open and Scott was standing there, eyes flashing amber.

“You’ve barely spoken to me in months Stiles! It’s always Lydia or Danny or even Derek .We’ve been best friends since elementary school and you ditched me when I needed you!” 

“When you needed me? Are you kidding me? Scott, your head was stuck so far up your own ass, or Allison’s ass, that you didn’t notice anything going on under your nose? Everyone else knows!”

That stopped Scott, eyes narrowing in suspicion rather than anger.

“Knows what?” Stiles huffed, pulling the collar of his shirt down to show the hickies on his neck. Derek had gotten a little carried away the night before when Stiles had asked him to come to dinner in a couple of days.

“That Derek and I have been seeing each other since I was kidnapped.”

Scott’s eyes went from narrowed to the size of half dollars within seconds. He was staring at the love bites, unable to look away.

“Since you were…”

Stiles let the collar back up to hide them and crossed his arms in irritation.

“Yes. And things were going on before then, but you didn’t notice because you were too focused on yourself and Allison and wolfy things. You never even asked me about my headaches, do you know that? I told you that I thought I had a brain tumor or something, what my mom _died_ from, and you never even asked me about it afterwards.”

Scott’s face fell, his eyes going back to their normal color, and he slumped on Stiles’ bed.

“How did… I completely forgot Stiles.”

It didn’t help to hear that Scott had forgotten. In fact it actually hurt worse than just assuming.

“Maybe I started hanging out with Lydia and Danny more, but that’s because they noticed things and actually paid attention. I was happy for you and Allison, I still am. I just miss my best friend. I miss the guy I used to talk to about everything, not just about girl problems. Do you realize that our only conversations lately have been about Allison? You’re a freaking werewolf and we don’t even talk about that anymore.”

It was true; they barely spoke about anything at all. And apparently Derek had to use his alpha authority to get Scott to agree to train harder. He’d been a werewolf longer and Jackson had already surpassed him in almost everything.

“Dude. I’m sorry. I miss you too Stiles.”

Stiles reached over, not even caring if it was breaking the bro-code or whatever, and hugged his friend tightly. 

\-------------

Dinner was going to be a disaster, Stiles knew it. He’d been texting Lydia, Allison, Scott and Danny about it, asking for advice and help and tranquilizers. 

Allison had told him to try not to stress; it’d just make Derek on edge because of his senses. Scott told him not to make any references towards their love life, because he apparently didn’t believe that they weren’t sleeping together. Danny told him to just try to think positive and they’d get through it fine. Lydia’s advice had been a little different.

_When I introduced Jackson to my parents for the first time, I knew they liked him when they told him to call them by their first names._

When Derek pulled in, dinner was just coming out of the oven and his dad was setting the table. Stiles invited Derek in, trying to convey with sure power of will all the positive energy he didn’t really possess.

“It’s going to be fine Stiles.” Of course Derek would be trying to calm Stiles down, that was just the kind of guy he was.

He’d asked ahead to see if he needed to bring anything, but Stiles hadn’t been able to think of anything so he’d said to just bring himself. Still, Derek showed up with a nice bottle of whisky to which he presented to Stiles’ dad.

“I was taught never to go to dinner at someone’s house without something.” Stiles watched his dad as he looked over the whisky, nodding his approval before putting it up in the liquor cabinet.

Besides the fact that Derek came bearing gifts, he was also the relaxed version of himself that he was when he was with Stiles. He made sure to casually touch Derek on the arm or shoulder to get his attention, hoping that his dad would see it and realize they weren’t hiding it from him. 

Another piece of advice from Lydia.

During the actual meal, Stiles half expected the Spanish Inquisition to take place in the dining room. Instead, the three of them talked sports and favorite camping spots in the state. Stiles relayed a funny story of him and his dad camping, thinking a bear had been outside of their tent only to find out it was a guy from the next tent doing yoga. Derek offered his own stories about his family, eyes growing a little distant the more he talked about them.

“I was sorry to hear that your uncle succumbed to his injuries. I know that must have been hard for you, so soon after Laura…”

Stiles turned to Derek to see how he would react to the brutal memory, but he nodded and looked down at his plate.

“I have some cousins out of state, but I’m not close to them. Laura and my uncle were the last of my family. It’s been hard. To be honest, if I didn’t have Stiles, I’m not sure what I’d do.”

At first Stiles thought Derek was laying it on pretty thick, but one look at his face told him that he was speaking the truth. Not minding his dad being only right there, he reached over and covered Derek’s hand with his own and squeezed.

“Stiles is good at being there for you when you need it.” Stiles could remember all the nights of going downstairs and seeing his dad staring at a half empty liquor bottle, could remember taking it away so that he could get his dad to go to sleep. 

He was good at caring for people.

They sat in silence for the rest of the meal, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Stiles brought out the key lime pie they’d bought at the store, a cheat for his dad because he knew he’d need it tonight. He tried to keep his dad healthy, but he deserved to eat whatever he wanted for dealing with what Stiles had put him through lately.

Although Stiles was surprised to learn he actually stuck to his diet even without Stiles drilling it into him every day.

Over pie they talked about more sports and cars before turning to what Derek did for money. He glanced at Stiles, looking a little sheepish as he answered.

“I do troubleshooting for computers. It’s not much but it pays well enough.”

Stiles couldn’t believe that even after all they’d been through together, he hadn’t asked where Derek got his money. And he knew that Derek had money, hence the rebuilt house and nice new furnishings. He also knew that Derek was sitting on a large sum of money from the insurance company and from the wills of his parents, so he thought that that was where it came from.

“Maybe I’ll call you the next time the computers at work crap out. The guy we usually have fix them charges an arm and a leg.” Leaning back in the chair, Derek shot Stiles’ dad a smile.

“You’re in luck, I only charge a leg.”

After that, everything seemed to loosen up again. They laughed and joked, each picking on Stiles in turn. He was glad they could bond over something.

At the end of the night, when they walked Derek to the door, he held his hand out for Stiles’ dad to shake.

“Mr. Stilinski, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you for asking me here tonight.” Stiles’ dad stared at the hand for a second before offering his own.

“You’re welcome any time Derek. And please, call me Mark.”

Stiles did an internal victory dance, already mentally texting Lydia with this development, but he stopped when his dad shot him a look.

“I’m going to step outside with Derek for a minute son, why don’t you go clean up in the kitchen? I’ll let you know when you can tell him goodbye.”

And here goes the ‘I have a gun and I know how to use it’ speech.

\-------------

When the sheriff came back in, he smiled in Stiles general direction and told him that Derek was waiting for him in the driveway.

“I’m going to sleep. Remember to lock the door when you come in. School in the morning, so get to sleep at a reasonable time.”

Stiles nodded, barely telling his dad goodnight before he slipped out the front door. Indeed, Derek was leaning against the hood of his car. Stiles grabbed hold of him before he was even fully stopped, pulling them together and wrapping his arms around Derek’s shoulders.

“It’s been hell being only a few feet away from you and not being able to touch you. So let yourself be hugged or face the consequences.” Derek laughed, a rare sound even when he was alone with Stiles, so Stiles counted it as a win and continued to hold on.

They stayed like that for a while before Derek pulled back, grinning openly at him.

“Your dad is very protective of you, but apparently he approves of me.” Stiles nodded, nosing under Derek’s chin and inhaling deeply. Whatever cologne he’d started to use smelled amazing and… exactly how Derek should smell.

“That’s good, because I think you’re sticking around.” Derek tensed for a second before squeezing Stiles’ hips, forcing them to part a little bit once more.

“There are some ground rules that I’ve been told to share with you. Rule one, any displays of affection in front of him is to be limited. Apparently no father wants to see that.”

Stiles laughed because he’d honestly been expecting that one.

“Rule two is that any public displays of affection should be PG. Our age difference will be a big deal once people start finding out.”

Stiles felt his heart skip at the fact that Derek wasn’t talking in possibilities but eventualities. 

“Rule three is that you’re to be home by eleven on school nights and one on weekends. Only exceptions will be after permission has been asked.”

That made Stiles raise an eyebrow.

“Did my dad give roundabout permission for me to stay the night at your place?” At that, Derek’s face seemed to darken. It could have been a shadow, but Stiles was pretty sure it was a blush.

“Rule four is that we are to use protection if and when we take the relationship to that level.”

Oh yeah, Derek was definitely blushing. Stiles was right there with him though, so that was fine.

Stiles waited, but Derek didn’t continue with the rules. He was watching Stiles curiously instead.

“No more? What, rule five wasn’t ‘I have a gun, so if you hurt my son…’? I kind of expected that to be rule one, to be honest.”

Derek shook his head, an odd look crossing his features as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Stiles’ temple.

“He said that ordinarily he would have threatened me with his gun and position, but that he had a feeling that if I hurt you, I’d be doing myself more pain than he could imagine.”

It was kind of true. Their connection wasn’t completely gone, although Stiles could now stub his toe without getting a headache. When he fell out of his bed one morning and hit his head, the pain had returned. And after him and Scott had fought, it have come back as well. It’d only happened once for Derek, but he hadn’t told Stiles why it triggered. He’d snuck in through Stiles’ window and curled himself around his mostly sleeping form, leaving before the morning.

They were still connected, but now it seemed to only come when it thought the other needed to know something was wrong. It was easier to handle that way, so Stiles wasn’t going to complain.

It’d brought them together, but they’d done the hard work themselves.

\---------------

The next week brought along three very important things. The first was that on Tuesday, Stiles got his cast off. He’d be sad to see it go since he’d decorated it to the point of being a masterpiece, but was happy all the same. The second was that on Thursday, it was Stiles’ seventeenth birthday. He liked having a summer birthday, it meant pool parties. The third important thing was that Friday was the first full moon since… well, since the last full moon.

Maybe there was a fourth important thing and that was that Stiles and Derek had been seeing each other for a month, but he wasn’t counting nor did he want to mention it in fear that it wasn’t actually important.

He had noticed, and had been told by his dad on multiple occasions since their dinner that night, that he and Derek had settled into something bordering on domestic bliss.

They always hung out together, they finished each other’s sentences, they could just look at each other and know what the other was thinking. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was just them or if they connection had somehow brought it out in them, but they were almost like one person.

Which wasn’t to say they never fought, because they did. Like cats and dogs, if you ignore the pun. There were spectacular fights, like the time where Stiles stormed out of Derek’s house only to realize that he didn’t drive there since he didn’t have a car. He had been thumbing through his phone to try to find a ride when Derek stormed out, keys in hand. He got in his car and glared at Stiles until he joined him.

Then he broke several rules of the road to get Stiles back to his own house. They sat in silence, not even the radio on, until they pulled in. Once there, they sat in silence again until Derek offered a gruff, but sincere, apology. 

At that point, Stiles launched himself over the divide to chase the apology on Derek’s lips. There were few things he hated more than trying to be mad at Derek when all he wanted to do was climb him like a tree.

It was during one of their not so rare displays of domesticity, doing the dishes together after joint cooking a meal large enough to feed an army that Stiles finally decided to bite the metaphorical bullet and address the issues he’d been tap dancing around all night.

Subtly was not his strong point.

“There are a couple of things coming up this week. Couple of important things. Very important things, actually.”

Derek looked over from where he was putting the dishes away, raising an eyebrow to show that he was listening.

“Well the first is that Tuesday I get my cast off. And as much as my dad wants to be there, he has to work. So I may or may not need a ride, and it’s safe to assume that I may. Will. I will need a ride. If you don’t mind?”

He still felt odd asking Derek that, asking him to pick him up or drop him off. He’d be happy when he saved enough money to get another car.

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” Stiles nodded, trying not to smile as he watched Derek go back to putting the dishes in the cabinets.

“You do that. See if you can pencil me in. Tuesday, three o’clock.” 

He watched Derek roll his eyes as he worked, which made Stiles have to stifle a laugh. Even if Derek had a lot to do on Tuesday, he’d most likely move things around so that he could be there for Stiles.

He’d do it for any of the pack, but most definitely for Stiles.

“What else? You said there were a couple of things, that’s just one. What else is there?” This time Stiles stopped washing the dishes and turned, leaning his back against the counter and watching Derek fully. Noticing the change, Derek stopped putting the dishes away and copied his stance, facing him from across the room.

“Well, you may not know this, but Thursday is my birthday. It’s not… we don’t really do much, mostly just my dad and Scott and that one time Scott’s mom. We go to the public pool or my dad grills or something. There’s cake and food and general revelry. Since the birthday group is going to be a bit bigger this year, dad said it would be totally okay for you to be there. I know that we’re still trying to keep the rela-- us… we’re trying to keep us a secret from the pack, but they all kind of already know so what’s the point?”

Stiles watched Derek’s face, because he didn’t know that Scott knew or that Danny suspected. His face closed off brief second, and in that brief second Stiles felt his heart plummet. He’d spoken in eventualities of people finding out about them, but deep down Stiles knew it wasn’t something Derek really wanted.

“What time?” Unsure when he looked down, Stiles glanced up to see Derek still leaning in the position he’d been in a moment before, face no longer closed off but just as open as it had been before.

Open for Derek meant just a little less closed off than normal, but Stiles had gotten better at reading his moods and thoughts from his little nuances. 

“I think we’re having everyone over at six? You don’t… Derek, I want you there. I want to say that you don’t have to be there because that’s the nice and right thing to do, but damn everything because I want you there and if you’re not, I’m going to be disappointed.” 

He watched Derek’s face, looking for a tick that meant he’d pushed too far or said something wrong, but none came. Instead Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles, what could have passed as the beginning of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Why wouldn’t I be there?” 

Stiles opened his mouth to respond to that, but then snapped it shut. He opened it once more, tasting the words he wanted to say, before snapping it shut once more.

“Spit it out Stiles.”

His voice was hard, but not in an angry way. In a way that said he knew if he didn’t press the issue, Stiles would happily let it fold away into the recesses of their minds, with everything else they didn’t think or talk about on a daily basis. Or ever.

“It’s just that I don’t want you to think you have to come just because I want you to. I know that we’re not really dating as much as just seeing each other.” The moment it was out of his mouth, Stiles wanted to pull the words back in. 

Derek’s eyes weren’t red, but they sure as hell were angry.

“Just seeing each other.”

Stiles hated when he did that. Repeated something; not asking but just repeating. It was a verbal tick that told Stiles that Derek was actively pissed off but trying to hold it in.

“Uh, I mean… yes? No. We’re… making out exclusively?”

That didn’t sound right, but Stiles had never really been sure what to call them and went through careful planning never to have to give them a label to his dad.

“Making out exclusively.” And okay, Derek’s jaw was definitely twitching meaning that Stiles had maybe five minutes before he shifted and Derek had brought him here so he was either going to have to get a ride or find a way to calm him down enough to drive him home.

It wasn’t helping that he could feel their connection start to pound in his temples. The pain seemed to be the only thing anchoring Derek from going full on alpha.

“Or maybe not exclusively? I mean, I thought we were exclusive with our making out but if you’re… I mean, I’m not making out with anyone else, but if you are, that’s… well that’s not… I’d really like it if you wouldn’t anymore? And why are you growling right now? Stop!” 

Derek was still growling, still clenched tight like a spring coiled tightly and poised to release. Stiles could feel his fear slowly getting the best of him, but he tried to rein it in.

“Stiles. I met your father, we spend almost every day together, and neither of us is even thinking about making out with other people. What part of that doesn’t sound like we’re dating?”

If Stiles had been drinking something, it would have gone out of his nose. As it was, he started choking on air. Smooth, very smooth. While he doubled over, trying to get his lungs to stop burning and for the pounding to cease in his head, he didn’t notice Derek move to his side until he felt his hand on the back of his neck.

Like every time before, the pain slowly subsided. It even took away the pain in his sides from the choking.

“I’m sorry; I thought you said we were dating.” He sat up, knowing he was provoking Derek, but he couldn’t help it. Derek’s answering growl was almost worth it.

“Would you rather be, what did you call it, just seeing each other?” Stiles made a noise of protest in the back of his throat before leaning forward, pressing his mouth tightly to Derek’s. He didn’t respond, simply kept his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, but he also didn’t stop him when he pulled away.

“I’ve been kicking myself in the head for a month trying to figure out if I was allowed to think of us as boyfriends or dating or whatever. You never specifically said… we just started…”

He motioned between them, how one of Derek’s hands was on his neck and the other on his hip and how both of his had been fisted in Derek’s shirt but were now gesturing wildly between them.

“You should have asked.” Stiles wanted to say that he shouldn’t have had to, that it should have been made abundantly clear what was going on, but instead he surged forward, capturing Derek’s mouth once more.

This time Derek responded, using the hand on Stiles’ neck as leverage to angle his head, pulling him closer by his belt loop until their hips were pressed together and one of Derek’s legs were pressed between his own.

Every time they went farther than making out, accidentally (or not so accidentally in Stiles’ case a few times) rubbing against one another, Derek always stopped them, slowed them down. Not that Stiles wasn’t grateful because while his body was ready for the horizontal tango, his mind was definitely not ready for everything that came with sex.

He’d seen what it did to Scott and Allison. Although they were finally no longer on a break so hopefully Thursday wouldn’t be too awkward.

Thinking about Thursday had Stiles pulling back, just far enough that when he licked his lips, his tongue traced over Derek’s as well.

“Thursday at five?” Derek growled in response, which Stiles was going to take as a yes, before surging back down to capture Stiles lips once more, hands reaching down to grasp his thighs and lift them up so he was perched on the counter.

They were going to have to finish the dishes later.

\--------------

Tuesday came first; because that’s the way the days of the week went. At two thirty, Stiles went up to the office to turn in his early dismissal note. The secretary barely even glanced at him before she handed him the clipboard to sign so he could leave. 

Outside, Stiles scanned the parking lot before spotting Derek’s car parked a little ways away. The final bell wasn’t until 3:05, but there were a few people getting out early that were nearby, so Stiles hurried to the car and slid into the passenger seat.

He still didn’t know how he felt about the fact that Derek was okay with them dating but still not okay with other people knowing. He understood it, the age and the stigma and all that, but it was the principle of it.

“Ready to get that off?” Stiles lifted the cast and peered at it as if he had never seen it before. 

“I don’t know. I’m sort of used to the weight of it now. It’s going to be weird.” 

He let it flop onto his lap and he stared down at it, at the drawings he did to represent the pack. He traced his fingers over the signatures that littered it, dulled with the weeks but still mostly legible.

“By the way, when did you sign it?” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked yet, but staring at it now, he could see Derek’s familiar writing in black sharpie.

Derek had to slam on the breaks to keep from hitting a dog that ran across the road. As much as Stiles wanted to make a comment, he bit down on his tongue and waited.

“You told me I could sign it.” Stiles could feel his eyebrows coming together in confusion.

“Yeah, at the hospital but you didn’t sign it. I told you that you could but you didn’t. You stared and were kind of creepy and loomed over me and then my dad walked in.” 

Which was still pretty high up on the list of most awkward things to have ever happened to Stiles. 

“Can you just accept the fact that I signed it without you realizing it?” Trying to hold in a smile, Stiles crossed his arms over his chest.

“Can you just admit the fact that you’re a creeper, signing my cast without me realizing it?” Derek glanced over at Stiles as he pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office.

“Get out of the car Stiles.”

With a laugh, Stiles slid out of the passenger seat and started towards the door. He turned around, about to ask a question, when he noticed that Derek wasn’t beside him. He was still sitting in the car. Stiles moved back to the car, standing next to the driver’s side until he rolled down the window.

“Are you coming?” Derek eyed the door to the office and shook his head.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea.” 

Stiles looked from Derek to the building in front of them and then back to Derek. He could see in his mind’s eye when Derek’s face had closed off simply at the mention that the pack knew about the two of them.

“Is this how you’re going to be about this all the time? I know you don’t want to skip down Main Street holding hands, but do we have to hide it all the time? Even from our friends?”

Derek’s jaw ticked, eyes flashing, and Stiles took a deep breath. He shook his head when Derek reached towards the handle of the door.

“Don’t bother. If you don‘t want to wait around, I’ll call you when I get out.”

He moved away from the car, actually a little disappointed that Derek listened to him and didn’t get out of the car, but at least he didn’t drive off. 

Stiles stepped into the office, telling the nurse his name and moving to sit down in one of the most uncomfortable waiting chairs he’d ever had the misfortune of sitting in.

Or maybe it was only uncomfortable because his mind wouldn’t stop replaying what just happened.

A nurse came in and called a name, the only other person in the waiting room getting up and going with her. Stiles looked down at the magazines, picking one up and flipping through it a few times before putting it back down. Waiting rooms had to be the most awkward things ever created.

The front door opened and Stiles glanced over to see if it would be anyone he recognized. He just about swallowed his tongue as Derek moved over to where he was sitting, glancing at the seat next to Stiles.

“Is this seat taken?” Stiles couldn’t help the smile that he let out at that. He motioned to the seat and Derek sat down, back straight as he stared at the wall opposite of them.

“You didn’t have to come in here. I’m just being selfish; I know why you want to keep everything under wraps.”

Instead of answering, Derek reached over and wrapped one of his hands around Stiles’, squeezing it a little and not releasing it afterwards.

A nurse came in a little while later and called Stiles’ name, eying Derek oddly as he got up and followed him. They went into the back and were placed in a room to wait for the doctor.

“I don’t even know why they have a waiting room.” Derek smirked from where he sat in a chair next to the door. Stiles ran his fingers over the cast one last time, fingering the area that busted when he’d hit Derek in the face. He never apologized for that, but he wasn’t really sorry so he guessed it was okay.

The doctor came in, smiling at Stiles and not even giving Derek a second glance as he went about telling Stiles what today’s process was going to entail.

After everything, washing his arm three times because it was nasty, Stiles followed Derek to the car and sat down. He couldn’t stop flexing his fingers, rolling his wrist and lifting his arm up and down. The smell wasn’t completely gone, but it was faint now.

“How did you deal with it before? I couldn’t smell it but you had to have, what with your special nose and all that.” Derek raised an eyebrow, reversing out of the parking spot and turning onto the main road. 

Once he no longer had to pay full attention to the road, he reached out and grabbed Stiles’ arm, running his fingers over the skin that had been covered by the cast, tracing his fingers over the veins as if he could feel them without looking, skimming his wrist before trailing down his palm and interlacing their fingers together.

Stiles couldn’t help the jump his heart made at that and he knew Derek could hear it. For once, he wasn’t embarrassed by his reaction to Derek’s touch or the little things he did that drove Stiles crazy.

“I guess I was usually distracted by other things.”

\-------------

It was decided by Derek that they should have Stiles’ birthday party at his house. He’d approved it with Stiles’ dad, stating that his place was bigger and therefore better for a group of rowdy teenagers. 

So Thursday afternoon found the pack heading over to the Hale house early to hide anything that might draw unwanted attention or questions. Derek went through and locked the doors that led to the library after they piled everything in there, books and pictures and anything vaguely werewolf related.

They even cleaned, if only because it rained Wednesday and the house smelled like wet dog, even though Derek didn’t have a dog.

“I know that when the pack gets together, we tend to do whatever we want and act a certain way, but we need to behave ourselves today. The sheriff will be here and we don’t want to mess anything up.”

Everyone had nodded, even Danny and Allison although they were always on their best behaviors. At some point during the talk, Stiles had flopped onto the couch between the two of them, sending Allison a conspiratorial wink for no reason other than he could before settling down against Danny’s shoulder.

The humans hadn’t been allowed out back for some odd reason. Stiles had tried twice to take a peak but Lydia was on human patrol, since she technically wasn’t human anymore, and refused to let him even near a room that had windows.

“Derek said no, so you have to listen to him. Even you.” Stiles had wrinkled his nose but accepted it. That was how he found himself between Danny and Allison, listening to music on Danny’s iPod. 

Not too long after five, there was a knock on the door and Stiles took it upon himself to answer it. His dad was there, holding two large gift bags and three grocery bags.

“Hey son. Go grab the rest from the backseat, would you?” Stiles nodded and took off down the porch steps to his dad’s cruiser, grabbing the few bags there and heading back to the house.

Inside, the living room was empty. He moved into the kitchen, expecting Lydia to be there to send him back to the front of the house, but she wasn’t there. No one was. The back door was open though, so Stiles moved to it and felt his jaw drop.

There was a back deck that hadn’t been there a few weeks ago. It was set up with picnic tables so everyone could sit down, plus a pretty impressive grill in the corner that his dad was salivating over.

And a set of stairs led from the deck to a brand new swimming pool which hadn’t been there a week ago.

“When did all of this happen?” Derek, who had been showing how to operate the seriously over the top grill, turned and sent Stiles a smile. Not a smirk, not a grin, not a glare, but a real smile.

Birthday miracle, right there.

“Scott and Jackson have been helping me build the deck. The pool people installed it a few days ago. I ordered it a few months ago but told them to hold off on actually putting it in until it got warmer.”

Stiles moved over to the rail and peered down into it. Lydia had either already changed or had been wearing her bathing suit under her clothes because she was already in it. Allison and Danny weren’t in sight, so they were probably changing. Jackson and Scott were still wearing shirts but were also wearing swim trunks that must have been on under their other clothes because Stiles didn’t remember seeing them earlier.

Even Derek was in swim trunks, gray with blue stripes down the side, plus a white t-shirt. It was a far cry from his usual color scheme, so Stiles was impressed.

“I didn’t bring my suit.” His dad made a noise in the back of his throat and pointed to one of the grocery bags he brought in.

“It’s on top of the buns I think. Should fit, if not, I think Scott said he’d bring an extra.” 

The effort that everyone went through to keep this a secret was kind of amazing. Allison came out of the house in a swim suit, complete with an only almost see-through cover up, followed by Danny in a pair of shorts. They raced past the group still on the deck, down the steps and into the pool, with Allison tossing off her cover up at the last moment.

Jackson and Scott shot each other a look before taking their flip-flops and shirts off, following their friends into the pool.

Without wasting any more time, Stiles moved over to the bags and grabbed his swim trunks before heading into the house and towards the front bathroom to change.

He shrugged off his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them under the sink before pulling on his trunks. They were a little snug around the waist because he’d put on some muscle since last summer, but they fit well enough. 

Outside of the bathroom, Derek was leaning against the far wall and smiling at him. Stiles glanced down the hall towards where the kitchen was before moving forward, wrapping his arms around Derek’s shoulders and pulling him down so they could kiss.

“I promise to be completely appropriate and proper once we’re in public, but for now, I just want to kiss you.” He could feel the rumble in Derek’s chest that meant he was holding in a laugh before he bent down, placing his lips over Stiles’ once more.

Stiles didn’t even wait for Derek to make the first move, licking at Derek’s lips until they opened and then letting his tongue delve into the warmth that was becoming a second home for him. He spent so much time wanting to simply crawl into Derek and live there, not in just a sexual way. 

It was like a spiritual experience, getting to kiss Derek like this.

Derek must have agreed because he muttered something that definitely sounded like ‘oh god’ before reaching down, pulling both of Stiles’ legs around his waist and pinning him to the wall. That was a default position for the two of them.

Stiles gripped Derek’s shoulders tightly, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise if Derek’s skin wouldn’t heal so fast. He was holding on for dear life, thinking of everything between his second grade teacher and his dad standing just outside to keep from getting an erection.

As it was, he could feel Derek’s hard on slowly growing against his ass, unable to do more than rub against it lightly, testing.

“Shh, Stiles.” Stiles blinked his eyes open, biting down on his lip as he realized he was moaning. His dad might not have heard, but Stiles was sure one of the other wolves probably did.

“We can’t do this here. Not with everyone just outside.” 

Stiles could feel his chest constricting, but not from the rejection he usually felt when Derek wouldn’t look at him or touch him when they were with the pack. He was pretty sure they were almost past that.

Instead it was because he wanted nothing more than to storm onto the deck and tell everyone to fuck off, even his dad.

“I know, I know. I just… I think I’m ready. For something, maybe not everything, but definitely something.” Derek smiled; bending down to kiss at Stiles’ neck until his breathing returned to normal and chest stopped throbbing. If Derek wasn’t touching him all over, Stiles would venture a guess that his head would be pounding with their connection.

“I understand, but not right now. Later we’ll figure out what something will be, but for now, we both need to calm down and go back out there. Before your dad comes looking for you.”

Stiles dropped his legs from around Derek’s waist, blushing as their crotches rubbed together at the movement. Derek stepped back so there was space between them, although he left one hand pressed on Stiles’ shoulder, thumb running over his collarbone.

They stayed that way for a few moments longer until they were both sure they had their hormones under control. Then they moved towards the kitchen, and Stiles was shocked as Derek let his hand drop from his shoulder to his hand, locking their knuckles together as they stepped onto the deck.

The group in the pool eyed them coolly before starting to splash at them, yelling at them to get in the water.

“That’ll have to wait. Burgers and hotdogs are almost ready.”

The group of them struggled out of the water as Derek and Stiles sat down next to each other on the bench, their sides lined up together perfectly.

Count that the second birthday miracle.

\--------------

Some time after eating their weight in burgers and swimming so much the group became prunes, Lydia had snuck off into the house to grab a cake big enough to feed the whole group.

Three and a half of which were werewolves. Needless to say, it was a big ass cake.

A tradition in the Stilinski family, one kept long after Stiles’ mom passed and was no longer there to enforce it, was that there should be only three candles on the cake.

 _“It’s for the past, the present, and the future. That’s what matters sweetheart; not the years, but what’s in the years.”_

They lit the three candles, the group of them (minus Derek, who simply watched with a smile) sang happy birthday to Stiles, and then he closed his eyes. He never really made a wish on his birthday candles, and this year was no different. Instead he pursed his lips and blew hard enough that the three candles flickered out.

However a second later, they flamed back on. He blew on them again and found himself staring once more at relit candles. He tried three more times before he caught on to what was going on. Stiles groaned, looking at the now grinning faces looking at him.

“You guys are jerks and I hate you all.” The grabbed a cup of water and dropped the candles into them. Lydia and Allison started cutting the cake from different ends, handing the first piece to Stiles before shoving plates at the rest of them.

While they ate, they talked amongst themselves. Stiles’ dad was talking to Jackson and Scott about some game they’d watched a few nights ago, the girls were talking with Derek about his plans for the rest of the house. 

Danny was sitting on the bench with his back to the picnic table, facing away from the group and towards the woods. Stiles was next to him, facing the group and away from the woods, but he turned his head to face Danny instead.

“You’ve been pretty quiet today. What’s going on?” Danny shrugged, peering at Stiles over his sunglasses.

“I talked to Derek about the bite.” Stiles cast a glance to his dad, but he was immersed in his conversation, so Stiles turned his attention back to Danny.

“What’d he say?” With another shrug, Danny took a few more bites of cake before putting it down on the table behind him.

“He gave me all the information, told me everything I either already knew or could guess. He wants me to make a decision with all of the information. He was really honest about it.”

Stiles glanced at Derek, who was paying attention to the girls but definitely listening in on Stiles’ conversation.

“And what do you think?” Danny looked at the group and Stiles followed suit, glancing over his shoulder at the group, skimming their faces individually. 

They all looked so happy, laughing or smiling in their different conversations. They were such an odd group, people who barely circled one another only months before were now sitting around a table at a once accused murderer’s house for Stiles’ birthday. It was basically the most surreal thing Stiles thought was possible right then.

“I want it. We all have our connections with the group, don’t we? Derek, Jackson, Scott and Lydia are tied to it because… obvious reasons. Allison is with Scott, plus her family’s connection. I want that, I want what it means and what comes with it. I want to be tied to this group.”

Stiles smiled, because that was a good answer. It wasn’t just because he felt left out; it was because Danny wanted to be as connected as he could be. He wanted the bite for his own reasons and not just because he thought he should get it. However he did wonder…

“What about my part in the group? And if you say Derek’s boyfriend, I’m going to punch you, right here and right now.” That made Danny laugh and Stiles could even see Derek’s shoulders shaking in his peripheral vision.

“No, but thank you for the confirmation. Surely you know what your part is though? It’s so obvious.”

Stiles stared at Danny because no, it wasn’t obvious. 

“You’re like glue that holds this shit together. You’re there for all of us when we need you, you keep us all updated on all of the bullshit. Sure, we’re mostly coming together over you almost getting killed, but that’s because we care and without you, we wouldn’t know head from tails.”

Which was funny because, yeah, werewolves. But Stiles didn’t laugh. Instead he leaned forward and hugged Danny.

“You’re going to make a really cuddly werewolf.”

\--------------

After presents, which Stiles had stressed over and over again that he didn’t need, the group slowly started to leave. He got a hug and a kiss on the cheek from both Allison and Lydia, a manly hug and a pat on the back from Scott, even an almost hug and a light shoulder check from Jackson. Danny gave him another hug, told him to have fun with a disastrous wink that Stiles was glad his dad didn’t see.

Because yes, he might have asked if he could spend the night at Derek’s. And yes, his dad might have said yes. So yes, it was awkward.

His dad was the last to leave, taking a moment to thank Derek for letting them use his house and giving him an extra firm handshake that seemed to say everything his mouth wasn’t. Stiles walked him down to the cruiser, giving him a tight hug and thanking him for everything.

“Be good and if you need anything, just call. I’m going to leave my phone on.” Stiles tried not to blush but he had no control, so he was sure he was as red as could be as he made his way back up the stairs to where Derek was standing.

“I have a present for you.” Stiles moved so that he was standing right in front of Derek, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Oh come on, you already gave me my present.” Many presents, if you counted the smile and the hand holding and the surprise of the deck and the pool and the actual present of the engraved copy of Grimm’s Fairytales. It had been especially personal since it was exactly like the copy his mom used to read from to him when he was little.

Lydia got him a couple of CDs and DVDs that he mentioned wanting. Jackson had gotten him an official Beacon Hills High School Lacrosse jacket which had only just gone for sale to the team and Stiles hadn’t ordered his yet. Scott got him a couple of gift cards to some stores in town, with Allison also getting him some gift cards to a few restaurants. His dad had given him his presents that morning before school, clothes and money and a new phone that Stiles didn’t need but definitely approved of.

Danny had gotten him a new lacrosse stick, which wasn’t cheap and made Stiles’ mouth drop as he brought it out from a closet in Derek’s house. No one knew about his and Danny’s training sessions still, which were going to start up again over the summer after work because he’d gotten hired at the library. 

It was more than Stiles could ever ask for. He’d have been happy just having the group together, but that they actually spent time to get him things they actually thought he’d like or need was amazing. And now Derek said he had another gift for him.

“I mean it Derek, I don’t need anything else. Tonight’s already been perfect. So return it or something.”

Derek smirked, wrapping his own arms around Stiles’ shoulders and pulling him closer, nudging his legs apart so that he could step between them. It left Stiles a little off balance, but he knew it was on purpose.

Derek really liked being in control. Who knew?

“Sorry, can’t return it.” Stiles raised an eyebrow, trying to bite back a grin at Derek’s expression as he slid his hands to just barely skim the waistband of his still slightly damp trunks.

“Are you about to be corny and say that you’re my present? Because I won’t return that, but I think I’d like to unwrap it now.” Derek laughed, leaning forward to capture Stiles’ mouth. It was a soft kiss considering, but Stiles didn’t mind. Instead he reached up, tangling his fingers in Derek’s hair, tugging on it to get him to deepen the kiss and nearly whining when he refused.

“Uh-uh, not distracting me. And no, I’m not your present, although we can discuss your terms later. Follow me.”

Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrist and pulled him down the steps and towards the side of the house. It took Stiles a second to realize they were going towards the garage. It was attached to the laundry room, so it might have been easier to go through the house, but he wasn’t about to complain.

After positioning Stiles exactly where he wanted him, Derek entered the garage by the door at the side. Stiles shifted, wondering if he would get in trouble for following him but then the garage door was lifting open. 

Letting his eyes adjust to the light pouring out, Stiles first noticed Derek, standing in front of his own car. Then his eyes moved to look straight ahead and his throat closed a bit.

It was his jeep, looking only a little shinier and a lot less like it’d been t-boned and rolled down a hill into a tree.

“How in the hell? Jackson said it was scrap metal.” He walked into the garage and looked it over. Everything looked the same, the paint job and the upholstery and just everything.

“Anything is possible with patience. I’ve had a mechanic working on it since after the accident. It wasn’t easy, a lot of parts had to be ordered from out of state, but they finally finished it two days ago.”

Stiles ran his fingers over the handle before pulling it open, hopping into the driver’s seat. He had to fix the position, slide it back a bit and lean it back just an inch or two, but it felt exactly like it had. He repositioned the mirrors before opening the visor and catching the keys before they hit his lap.

Derek climbed into the passenger seat and eyed Stiles as he ran his fingers over every inch of the car. He opened the console, already knowing it would be empty. Everything that could be salvaged had been: his book bag and extra clothes, his lacrosse equipment and CDs. He checked the glove compartment but all that was in there were the manual and his registration papers.

Taking a deep breath, because he hadn’t done this since his accident, Stiles put the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine purred to life and Stiles closed his eyes.

He could remember the impact, the jerking motion when they jeep had rolled down the hill, the pain of the impact with the tree. His breathing was quickening, his chest tightening, and he recognized the symptoms of a panic attack but wasn’t able to do anything about it. He was locked in the memory, in the pain of the accident. The memory of the pain was replaced by the actual pain in his head, flaring up faster than it had in a while.

The pain barely got to reach its height before Stiles felt Derek’s hand on his neck and could make out his voice in his ear, telling him it was okay.

“I’ve got you Stiles, you’re okay, can you hear me Stiles?”

Forcing a nod, Stiles slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Derek. His eyes were wide and he was staring at Stiles as if he had just walked into oncoming traffic and sat down.

“Fuck. This was a really bad idea, shit, I’m sorry Stiles. Here, let’s get out and I’ll--” Stiles leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s, swallowing whatever he was about to say.

It took Derek a moment to realize he was being kissed, his mouth still moving like it was making words for a second before moving for a totally different reason. He reached up, cupping Stiles’ jaw in his hand and using it to maneuver Stiles closer, deepening the kiss by dipping his tongue in and tracing shapes on the roof of his mouth.

And as much as he wanted to climb into Derek’s lap and make good on that promise to discuss the details of Derek being his gift, he pulled back. At some point, he had reached up to grasp the hand Derek had on his face. He wiggled his fingers into the spaces between Derek’s and clasped them tightly together.

“Thank you for this Derek. Thank you.” 

It was going to be difficult to drive the jeep at first, but Stiles was nothing if not motivated and stubborn. And if he had Derek with him, he was certain he’d be able to do it.

\--------------

They took a quick drive around town, with Derek holding onto Stiles’ leg in a way that was distracting and comforting at the same time. Once he got a hang of it again, he had half a mind to drive them to the local make out spot until he remembered that hey, his boyfriend had a house.

So instead he might have gone over the speed limit a little on the way home, but Derek didn’t seem to notice or at the very least care. Instead he tightened his grip on Stiles’ leg, rubbing his fingers along the seam of the shorts on the inside of his thigh.

“If we wreck, it’s so going to be your fault.” Derek laughed but didn’t stop his hand. Stiles knew that Derek’s reflexes would save them if anything happened.

He parked it in the driveway, since they’d shut and locked the garage when they left, and they made their way up the stairs and onto the porch. While Derek searched for the keys in his pocket, Stiles stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying not to let his hands roam.

Not ready for everything, pretty sure ready for something, that’s what he kept telling himself. He would need to be sure or else Derek wouldn’t even think about doing anything to him. Or with him. 

Inside, after Derek locked the door behind him, they moved throughout the house and turned off the lights, slowly making their way towards the bedrooms. There were enough for basically the entire pack, but only one mattered right then. Derek had turned his old room into the master bedroom, saying he didn’t feel right taking over his parent’s room. 

Stiles’ favorite part of the room, besides the fact that a bathroom was attached and there was a tub that looked big enough to fit at least three people comfortably, was the bed. There was the huge glass doors that opened onto a little balcony that only came off this room, didn’t wrap around the house and no other rooms had it, there was a fireplace, there was a huge couch set across from a nice entertainment center, but the best part was the bed.

It was a nice bed, large and comfortable. The headboard was wooden and carved with little shelves, but if you asked Stiles the color of the bedspread he wouldn’t be able to answer because the moment his mind focused on the word ‘bed’, Derek was there and pressing distracting kisses down his neck.

There were a lot of something’s that they could do, a whole book of them that Stiles might have ordered online. And while actual penetrative sex and blowjobs were basically off the table for Stiles at the moment, he was definitely interested in a few of the other possibilities.

They fell onto the bed, with Stiles straddling Derek’s hips, trading deep and wet kisses and long caresses. 

“Slow, slow down. We have all night.” Stiles shook his head because yes, they did have all night, but he wanted this now and twenty minutes ago and five hours ago and if he didn’t get it now, there was a good chance he might die.

“Do you know you’re talking out loud?” Stiles sat up and blinked down at Derek who was grinning up at him in a way that was both arousing and infuriating.

“Get a move on it Hale, or I’m finding one of the other furnished bedrooms with a lock and you’re not invited.”

Letting out a playful growl that actually surprised (and possibly aroused) Stiles, Derek rolled them over and scooted them up the bed.

“What do you want?” He was trailing a finger over the strip of skin between Stiles’ shirt and the swim trunks, the swim trunks that were snug on his waist and dipped below his hipbones from the way they scooted up the bed and oh god Derek’s finger might be driving him crazy because it felt like that little strip of skin was on fire.

“I don’t know, but I want it now before things get ugly.” Derek laughed, scooting down to press a kiss to the skin he’d been tracing before sitting back up and lowering himself over Stiles completely.

It was hard to breathe like that, chest to chest with a kind of heavy and very muscled werewolf. Besides not being able to breathe, Stiles was also not able to keep his hands still. They skimmed over Derek’s arms, under his shirt and over his back, tracing the top of the waistband of his trunks, before repeating the process.

Derek sat up briefly to take off his shirt and helped Stiles struggle out of his own before lying back down, their skin already sticking together with a light sheen of sweat they’d built up already.

“I have an idea but if I do anything you don’t want or don’t like, I need you to tell me.” Stiles bit his lip and nodded, his head going back and forth on the pillows. He needed something, only god knows what.

Or Derek knows what, but that was kind of the same thing at this point.

“Stiles, I need to hear you say it. Say that you’ll tell me if you want me to stop.”

Derek had barely shifted his hips, trying to get a lock on Stiles’ gaze, but the movement rubbed their clothed erections together and Stiles found himself unable to do more than mutter incoherently.

“Stiles. Say it.” 

There was a low timbre, almost like his alpha voice but different somehow, that made Stiles’ skin tingle and his back arch.

“Yes. Okay, yes, I’ll tell you if I want you to stop. Fuck, Derek, please.”

Satisfied with his compliance, Derek reached down and lifted one of Stiles’ legs over his hip. He was kneeling between his legs, spread far enough apart to keep his balance. Stiles used one hand to grip at Derek’s waist, pretty sure he could guess where this was headed, and used the other to grasp Derek’s neck and pull him down.

While they kissed, tongues battling for dominance, Derek slowly moved his hips. First in a small circle and then in a slightly larger one. Stiles was making noises in the back of his throat, smothering the noises with breathy groans into Derek’s willing mouth, scratching his fingernails up and down his back and sides to encourage it.

Because really, Stiles’ dick had been hard for way too long and he was a virgin so he wasn’t going to last long anyways, but they needed to get on with it before Derek killed him.

Sensing that Derek wasn’t going to up the pace, Stiles figured he needed to play dirty. After a month of making out with Derek on various surfaces, sometimes on his lap and sometimes under him, he’d gotten to learn a lot of what made Derek tick.

First he lightened his fingers against Derek’s back, tracing one up his spine and then back down, tucking just lightly under the waistband. It made Derek jerk his hips, a move he usually aborted during their earlier make out sessions, but he let it happen this time and Stiles felt his eyes roll back in his head.

Next he tilted his head, offering his neck in a show of submission that he knew made Derek hot. He had said that werewolves, when in control and experienced, didn’t shift during sex but they could always feel it right at the edge. So anything appealing to his wolf’s nature always had Derek breathing harder. As he did it now, Derek skimmed his eyes over the offering before bending down, closing his mouth over about where the pulse would be found and started to suck, nipping lightly every now and then.

So far so good.

Stiles bent his other leg, the one not hooked over Derek’s hip, causing his erection to brush Derek’s and… fuck. He did it again, rotating his hips and rolling them a few times, gasping against Derek’s ear at the heat that seemed to be spreading in his belly.

While Derek was busy, Stiles made sure he had the best advantage and pushed, rolling the two of them over so that Stiles was on top.

Derek might like to be in control, but he really, really liked it when Stiles took that control. It didn’t always last long, but Derek’s favorite position was under Stiles.

Stiles was pretty partial to it himself.

Derek detached his mouth from Stiles’ neck and leaned up; licking into Stiles’ mouth and making him forget his victory. His world consisted of the heat of Derek’s mouth, the slickness of his tongue, the firmness of the hands roaming over his back and his ass, the smoothness of Derek’s skin under his hands, and the thrusting motions he was making with his hips.

It was spiritual. Or sinful. Could it be both? It felt like both.

Bending down, Stiles licked the skin of Derek’s neck, tasting sweat and a little chlorine from the pool as he did so, before biting down. That was the last thing he learned about Derek. He was always careful about biting Stiles, always made sure it was light and never hard enough to break the skin, but he loved it when Stiles bit him. The harder the better.

Stiles bit as hard as he could, flicking his tongue over the skin in his mouth, hand venturing over Derek’s stomach as it quivered and higher up, flicking over the nipple closest to his hand and feeling more than hearing Derek’s answering groan.

It turned into a growl as Stiles closed his mouth of the skin and sucked, drawing the blood to the surface. 

“Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles was straddling Derek’s legs still so he moved one, nudging Derek’s legs apart and thrusting his thigh up a bit until it hit the cloth covering Derek’s cock, warm through the fabric. His own almost hurt from the need to release, so he slotted their hips together and started rocking forward.

While he moved forward and back, every now and then thrusting forward harder than before, Derek started thrusting upwards against him. It was sloppy and not perfect, sometimes Derek would thrust up when Stiles would be rocking backwards, but when they met… it felt like pure bliss.

“Harder, please.” He wasn’t even sure he spoke until Derek grunted, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ waist and rolling them over once more. And once more in charge, Derek stopped holding back, his hips snapping forward as he pushed against Stiles.

It felt like it had been going on for hours and Stiles could feel his release and he was biting his lip and then Derek was biting his lip and then he was biting Derek’s lip and then… and then…

It crashed over him with no real warning. One minute he’s thrusting his cock against Derek’s like it is going to save his life and the next he’s shuddering underneath him and moaning. Derek paused above him before giving a few more hard thrusts, the cloth rubbing against Stiles’ in a way that almost hurt, before he shuddered and his hips jerked.

Stiles held on, knowing they both needed to clean up because it was going to get nasty soon, but he wasn’t ready.

“Are you okay?” He looked up at Derek, eyes taking a second to focus, before nodding. He leaned up, licking into Derek’s mouth again, softer and slower than before. They traded slow, lazy kisses until Stiles could feel his legs again.

They both got up and moved to the dresser where Derek grabbed a spare set of clothes for Stiles so he wouldn’t have to go down to the living room to change.

“You shower here, I’ll go shower down the hall.” Stiles nodded, still really unable to do more than that. He did manage to grab Derek’s arm before he left the bedroom, pulling him back in for another kiss before heading into the bathroom.

He bypassed the bath after taking his clothes off, although he really wanted to climb in it, and stepped into the shower. His knees were knocking together and he was absolutely covered in his come, but knowing that Derek was covered too, just down the hall washing himself…

If Stiles had been able to get it up again, he definitely would have jerked off in Derek’s shower. Or found his courage to sneak down the hall and slip into the shower with Derek to have him jerk him off.

\--------------

When they both crawled under the covers, Stiles automatically moved into Derek’s space. He nuzzled against his check, his neck, his shoulder and chest until he found a comfortable spot to sleep.

“It was amazing and I think we need to do that at least once a day.” He expected a laugh or at least a comment, but when it didn’t come, he glanced up at Derek. He was running his fingers over Stiles’ neck, watching him silently.

“Is something wrong? Did I… did I do something wrong?” Derek shook his head, bending it so that he could press his lips to Stiles’ forehead.

“You were amazing.”

He fell silent again and Stiles rested his chin on his sternum so he could watch him. There were obvious emotions going on behind his eyes, but nothing Stiles could discern. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Derek smiled that time, using the hand on his neck to pull him forward so that their mouths met again. It was a short and sweet kiss before Derek pulled back again.

“Happy birthday Stiles.” He glanced over at the clock and saw that it was still his birthday, not midnight yet.

Tomorrow night was the full moon, the first one since him and Derek had started dating. Stiles had to wonder at Derek’s control, since it was the night before the full moon and he hadn’t even seemed like he was going to lose it while they were together.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow night?” Derek made a noise in the back of his throat as he thought.

“Jackson, Scott and Lydia will be here for the night. Easier for me to keep an eye on them. Allison will be at her house, all tucked in and locked up tight. One of Chris Argent’s stipulations to Allison and Scott dating was that he not be near her on full moons.”

Stiles nodded, although… he had a few questions about Chris. Tonight wasn’t the night, but soon it would be. He had been wondering what he and Derek had talked about on the porch after they got him back from the hunters. Plus he had to wonder about the looks he’d been giving him whenever he saw him around town for any reason.

“And me?”

Derek moved so that they were both on their sides facing one another, one of Stiles’ arms thrown over Derek’s side and Derek running his fingers over Stiles’ stomach through his borrowed shirt.

“You’ll be locked up and tucked in at your house. I’m not taking any chances Stiles, and that’s that, so don’t bother.” Stiles opened his mouth, ready to argue, but he snapped it close.

It was difficult to remember that Derek wasn’t just his boyfriend, but technically his alpha. Although humans weren’t under the same control as an alpha’s betas, they still had to listen to them. It was nice that humans in packs commanded the respect of the other werewolves, betas and omegas and even the alpha to some degree. Derek had explained that that was probably why he was able to calm down Jackson and Scott sometimes, they respected him enough to listen.

“You’ll call me the morning after, right?” Derek rolled his eyes before nodding, accepting the kiss that Stiles pressed against his lips before burrowing his head into his pillow. Stiles took that as a sign that they were done talking for the night so he rolled over, pressing his back to Derek’s stomach and pulling his arm tight around him, pressing it flat against his stomach.

“Goodnight Derek.” The older man pressed a kiss to the back of Stiles’ neck. There was a moment of silence, which Stiles guessed probably meant that Derek was drifting off to sleep, but he couldn’t help himself.

“And you promise you’ll still respect me in the morning, right?” He felt Derek nip at his neck, something he sometimes did when he was cuddly but still trying to assert his authority.

Although Stiles was no longer scared of Derek (too much), it did work to get his attention.

“Go to sleep Stiles.”

Stiles smiled and pressed against the warm body at his back again. He watched the clock tick down the minutes until it was past midnight and his eyes started to drift close.

Things were never going to be the same, but they were good how they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First order of business. Hi, my name is JM, and I have been your author for this story. You can find me on tumblr under the same username. If you follow me, please just pop into my ask box and let me know? I love to meet new people.
> 
> Second order of business. I do not have a beta, so all mistakes are my own. And I know there are some glaring spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes. I generally write it, look over it, wait a day or two and then look over it again. I'm only human and I beg your pardon for any issues.
> 
> Third order of business. The sequel, dun dun dun. I've already sort of started the first chapter just because I thought of a great opening and wanted to write it down before I forgot. It'll potentially be a week before I start posting that one simply because I'm working five nights this week.
> 
> Fourth and final order of business. I had planned to write character oneshots, oneshots of this story told from the other character's points of view, but after thinking about it, I realized that I would be giving away a lot more than I want to if I do that. So what I may do is write Lydia and Danny's oneshots before the sequel and Derek and Jackson's either during the sequel or after.
> 
> So keep your eyes open for Lydia and Danny's character one shots, plus the sequel to be coming soon! Thank you for reading I Need You So Much Closer. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.


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